Mass Effect 3: The Wanderer
by Marcopolo135
Summary: Enter the Wanderer: A being who originates from before the Protheans. Starts with his life, then ties in with Shepard's in the fight against the Reapers.
1. Chapter 1 : The Outpost

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

Date: around 60, 000 years before mass effect storyline

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_Tick... Tick... Tick..._

He was alone, sitting in a communications outpost in the dead of the night.

_Tick... Tick... Tick..._

He sits alone in the darkness, one hand on a comm, the other resting on the raised platform in front of him. His eyes are closed, listening closely to the sound emanating from the speaker.

Nothing moved.

_Tick... Tick... ..._

The sound abruptly stops and the room fades into silence.

Tension builds. His grip on the comm increases and his breath is held.

…_.. …...Tick... Tick... Tick..._

The sound starts playing through the speaker again. His grip relaxes and he breathes easy again. Within the empty room, the sound drones on and fills his head with a pleasant gray numbness. In the quiet comfort, thoughts occupy his mind:

_"Reapers". A group of genocidal monsters that harvest the galaxy of all sentient life every 50,000 years. He had been witness to their destruction for the second time now. He was here, in this outpost to make sure they couldn't take from him what they had taken before. He had created this colony to hide those closest to him from their untimely destruction. A haven if you will. _

_The colony was on the edge of the galaxy far from any relays and clouded by nebulae to mask it's location. They were completely isolated from the rest of the galaxy. There was no way the reapers could find them..._

Silence.

His thoughts were interrupted by silence from the comm once again. The sound had stopped, then …

Static. His heart skipped a beat.

_Not again_

His thumb fumbles against the comm reset button.

Nothing changes.

He presses it yet again. This time with more force.

Still nothing.

He is slightly shaken but it had malfunctioned before so he was not entirely worried. It could have been anything; interference or bad signal, or maybe a communication tower had burnt out. It was to be expected, as they were trying to get by with living on as little resources as possible.

He immediately feared the worst but prevented himself from overreacting, so he did the only thing he could do: he waited, and waited.

Without the sound from the speaker, his perception of time became disrupted and he becomes frustrated. He grumbles to himself. He is annoyed.

He tries contacting the other outposts.

Static.

The feeling of dread impacts his gut. His hand grasps the comm with enough force to crush. His nerves are shot. He contacts the emergency channel.

Static.

His eyes shoot open in the darkness. Something is wrong.

Pupils fully dilated, he jams the comm down his suit, dons his helmet, his sword, and bursts out of the entrance. The air outside the shelter is cool and the 3 moons that orbit this planet bathe the landscape with light in this pitch black night.

He looks in the direction of where the settlement was located. HIS settlement. A red glow is emanating from the top of the mountains.

All the blood rushes from his face as his eyes grow wide in fear. Without a second thought he breaks out into a sprint.

_This can't be happening again. _Disbelief fills his mind.

A steady sound fills his ears again. His heartbeat beats loudly in his ears and the sound of his thumping feet against the ground are the only sound he hears. He sprints with an almost desperate attempt to run faster than his legs could carry him knowing that ever second wasted means more death. He turns off a beaten trail and rips into a small clearing at the base of the mountain close to the colony.

He runs. And runs.

He keeps running as far as he could up the mountain and with the highest speed that his body could allow. Feeling the rush of the cool wind rushing past him, he jumps from one cliff to the other and uses his sword to scale the almost vertical drop to certain death. As he nears the top of the mountain, he silently hopes that what he feared hadn't come to pass. His thoughts become plagued with worry. He couldn't be left alone again, not again.

He reads five hundred meters.

His fatigue is soon becoming apparent. He is exhausted, but he can't stop now.

He vaults to the top of the cliff and sees that he is nearing his goal when another of his senses is abruptly awakened and the smell hits him like a wall. The air was thick with this smell...

It was the all too familiar scent of death. The scent of metal and burnt flesh.

_This CAN'T be happening!, I WON'T be left alone AGAIN!_

He was ready to collapse from sheer exhaustion, but his destination was right over the top, now 20 meters away. He uses one last burst of energy to burst over the last gap and stops dead in his tracks, panting and wild-eyed as he looks around him. He is...He is...

Alone.

He was alone again.

"No, it can't be, THEY are not this fast!" he exclaims. He stands alone, gasping for breath and trembling, on top a mountain overlooking HIS refuge. The scene stretched in front of him could only be described as a wasteland from hell. Craters, smoking debris and warped metal covered the landscape where he had once lived. The stench of charred flesh and death fills the air. With a frantic movement he fumbles for his comm. Static plays through the speakers.

"Wanderer to Haven!, I repeat Wanderer to Haven!, do you copy?".

White noise was his only response.

He was shaking now. "Wanderer to Haven...IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE?". Still silence.

"Please, ANYONE, say _something_..." Still nothing. He was once again too late...his yelling would not change anything. Everyone was already dead and gone. He was sobbing now.

The lone and broken warrior takes sad slow steps toward his once safe haven that was now reduced to a soulless graveyard.

There was nothing left.

Even after his preparations and help from the Protheans, they couldn't stop them yet again. No one could stop them, not the great Prothean empire nor those who came before them. But by god he knew he tried. The Reapers worked with incredible speed and efficiency and within hours of gaining control of the citadel, they had data pertaining to the location of every colonized planet the Protheans had. Except that HIS settlement wasn't in the records. How the hell had they found out about this place? He knew he would never know. He has no tears, just a quiet rage that he suppresses. The chains hold. Pushing aside piles of rubble where he had once lived, his eyes rest on a familiar wreckage to the left of him. A shelter. HIS shelter. There was nothing left; aside from a few metal beams twisted beyond recondition and pieces of debris littered everywhere.

There was a glint of something metallic amid the rubble and picked it up. It was a memory capsule. The kind that held imprints, and he opened it. Inside was a imprint of him and a family. This was another life that he had sworn to protect but had failed.

They weren't the first ones either.

He slipped the picture into a pouch in his suit next to the others. He had outlived everyone and now he had nothing. Again.

He closed his eyes and muttered a short prayer for those who had lost their lives and a prayer for his forgiveness, amid the scene that can only be described as hell, as fires and the souls of the departed rage around him.


	2. Chapter 2 : Eletania

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

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_He closed his eyes and muttered a short prayer for those who had lost their lives and a prayer for his forgiveness, amid the scene that can only be described as hell, as fires and the souls of the departed rage around him..._

Alone.

The word echoed in his mind as he thought about just how he alone he really was.

He was Alone in a Galaxy that had just been purged of all Intelligent life. He would probably be the only advanced sentient being in the vast expanse of the galaxy; for another few thousand years or so...

He was sitting cross-legged atop a partially-demolished tower, his eyes hard as stone.

_This tower was probably was one of the only structurally stable objects within the city limits. The reapers were unfortunately very thorough._

He glances around at the remnants of another world that was was laid waste by the Reapers. Currently he was looking at a ghost of a once magnificent city. He had visited this place a few times in the past and it's beauty never failed to amaze him. The Protheans had a thing for art. He had seen the young ones playing with each other in the streets, parents keeping a tight watch over their children, and tourists, including himself, stopping to take a look at the abstract pieces of art that dotted the landscape.

He lifted his head. The sun had been warm and bright on his face that day...

He blinked and his vision focused. Now all he saw was rubble, corpses and a darkness that blotted out the sky. The only art for show here, was the art of genocide, the art of death. He rose. He needed to get away from here, it reminded him of too much.

He began a slow walk to the shuttle bay, and his thoughts traveled back to the Protheans. They were gone. The Reaper harvest had finished. Warning them was futile, however some did, and those few had created a last-minute backup plan. A Prothean scientist he met a while ago told him that they had created their own refuge, a "Archive" where the Protheans could cryogenically freeze themselves and come back when the reaper threat was over. He sent his family there, in hope that they had a chance to survive the extermination. However, they hadn't told him where it was. It was a risk they couldn't take. They did however, give him part of the final last resort plan in the form of two data disks and the location to a data-bank on the planet Eletania. That is where he was currently headed.

He starts up his small ship, leaves the planet and heads for the nearest mass relay. How ironic...every space faring race used the relays as a life-line, to expand and give life to desolate and barren planets. In the end it was the relays to provided a passage for the reapers to their location and destruction.

The ships V.I. starts the countdown as the ship pulls up alongside the mass relay. "INITIALISING JUMP IN 5...4...3...2...1"

The dark of space turned bright, and he literally jumps thousands of light years instantaneously. It amazed him each time he jumped. He had just traveled halfway across the galaxy in less that a complete unit of time. It was a marvel of engineering, but its makers were less than marvelous.

He emerges in the Hercules system. He spots Eletania.

It was a lovely world; a was a lush and green meadow covered with plant life.

Its atmosphere was filled with micro-organisms that made breathing without a helmet impossible. He puts on his helmet and dons his sword as he lands and exits the small craft.

He looks around and is at once amazed by its serene calm. It was hard to imagine that entire planets in the far distance were left burning. He lets out a sigh and continues walking in the direction of the "artifact". His vision directs him to a plain littered with rocks and dirt.

He arrives. In front of him loomed the Prothean data-bank. He had seen several banks such as this one in the past; they transmitted information to the mind directly.

_Hopefully some of them will last long enough to be understood by future life-forms._

He approaches the giant metallic sphere that hovers in front of him. Normally an irregular shaped object or "key-block" would be inserted at the base to start the transfer, so he takes out his "key-block" and proceeds to activate the artifact.

He inserts the item, then...WHAM! The vision hits him hard. The ball explodes in a brilliant flash of white light, momentarily blinding and disorienting him.

_Slowly your senses return as you wake from a deep sleep. You are alone in the forest, though you are not far from the caves you share with the others in your tribe. There is a pain and a small lump in the back of your skull, as if a chip of flint has been forced under the surface of the skin._

_Leaning on your bone-tipped spear for support, you rise to your feet. A sound draws your attention upwards, where a strange creature hovers high above you. It is unlike the birds you hunt by the lake's edge – it has no head and no wings yet somehow it flies. It is a beast of shining silver; hanging motionless in the sky like a cloud. You sense it is watching you, studying you._

_Raising a hairy fist, you shake your spear at it in anger and the creature rises up quickly until it disappears from view. With a satisfied grunt you make your way back to your caves and the rest of the tribe._

_You fall into the familiar patterns of life – the hunt for food, the struggle to claim and keep a mate, the battles against the other tribes that would claim your territory. Days roll into nights and back into days. Each time you rise from sleep there is the sensation that you are not alone; that some "other" is with you sharing all you see, hear and feel. At these times your hand goes to the strange lump at the back of your skull and you remember the silver creature from the sky._

_The air grows colder, winter falls. You must range farther for food, clutching the furs tight against you to ward off the chill. It is on one of these long hunts that the strange bird returns. You hear it before you see it, its call a deafening roar as it descends from above, swooping down on you. A single great eye opens on the underbelly, a glowing red orb. You try to run, but a finger of red light extends from the eye and engulfs you, and all goes black again._

He wakes an instant later to find himself on Eletania lying on his back, the Prothean artifact looming above him. He has just seen the memories of a "Cro-Magnon" hunter, captured by a Prothean and implanted with a memory data recorder.

_How long have they been studying the primitive species?_

Apparently the Protheans had found and had been studying a species that they hoped would evolve into something great, something that could eventually have the potential to face up to the reaper threat...and that was his task.

He was to give the disks to the species that had the potential to finish what the Protheans had started. They still had a chance to stop the reapers. He takes out the "key-block" from the artifact and heads back to his ship. He looks down at the object in his hand.

_I should probably dispose of it. Somewhere on a distant world. After all, who's going to find it among the billions of the planets in the galaxy?_

After dropping the artifact on a random world, he rides the mass relay once to visit the system that held earth. The sun in this system had several planets orbiting. His on-board V.I. notifies him of a abandoned Prothean probe on Mars, the orange/red planet. He lands on the planet and approaches the probe on the planets surface and deposits one of the two data disks that he was given.

_If the species that Protheans were studying ever managed to achieve space-travel and thus travel to Mars; they would find the information that would propel them to the stars._

He keeps the other disk. He would have to deliver this disk personally when the time was right. Satisfied with his work, he returns to his craft and heads for earth.

(authors notes: The above italic writing was actually part of mass effect 1. When the wanderer said he should dispose of the "key-stone", eventually the Asari Consort comes across it and gives it to Shepard in ME1. The data humans found on Mars enabled them to reach for the stars. it accelerated their technology hundreds of years., and thus the beginning of ME)


	3. Chapter 3 : Earth

**I DO NOT OWN BIOWARE OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS ( i wish i did)**

**Date: Around 60, 000 years before Mass Effect storyline**

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"&%$#&$&"

His mouth erupted in a string of expletives and curses in Prothean dialect.

This was not good. In his haste, and a genuine mistake that was rare for him, he had forgot to shield the ship's boosters upon slowing and entering Earth's nitrogen-rich atmosphere. The resulting mixture of nitrogen and Xeron fuel caused a huge fireball in the fusion chambers on his ship, causing him to literally burst forward at speeds exceeding Mach 50; or 38,060 mph.

Cursing his luck, he grabs the controls and tries to stabilize the craft. This would not have been catastrophic in space, but the great abundance of oxygen in the air allowed the extreme heat to continually burn and slowly eat away at the engine. The resulting shock-wave and speed caused the outer layers of the ship to blister and peel off leaving a single man encased in a frame of now-molten metal.

"No way in hell I'm going to die like this!" he roared. The sadness that clouded his judgment had just been replaced with anger. He had come all this way through space and time, and he'd be damned if his journey ended now. His healing ability could ensure his survival if they landed in water or on the softer ground with a lower speed, but a impact at Mach 50 on solid ground would ensure his internal organs would be reduced to splattered goo.

The controls spark as he desperately tries to gain control of the craft. Having never completely mastered the small prothean crafts controls, his odds of a safe landing plummeted. The electronic and assistive controls flashed then deactivated. The life support systems shut down, the tanks of gas haven been ruptured during the re-entry. Back up thrusters? Fried. Emergency landing gear? Gone.

&#(%^*!

He spots a partially frozen lake up ahead.

_That will have to do_.

The inner frame of the ship was beginning to groan and was starting to buckle under the stress. He had to land, and it had to be NOW.

Slowly he dips the front of the ship downwards toward the water. _Almost there...just hold on a few more seconds..._

_._

The craft hits the water at an extremely low angle to slowly shave the top portion of the water to gradually start slowing, when suddenly the bottom of the craft hits a hidden ice shelf and the craft is violently sheared in two from the deceleration. His mangled body is flown from his seat and tossed toward the edge of the lake like a rag-doll.

.

It was quiet again.

He awoke with a start minutes later, dazed and confused. He looked out over the surface of the frozen lake.

Whatever was remaining of the ship lay in the middle of the lake amidst billowing columns of steam. There was nothing left of his craft except for his seat and a few bent metal beams; He wouldn't be leaving this planet... for a long time. A VERY long time. He wanted to punched himself for letting such a trivial mistake cost him millienias of time spent stranded on this planet.

Realizing he could not move his arm, he looks down and the pain becomes swiftly apparent. Struggling to stay conscious, he quickly inspects his body. Although his suit had practically survived unharmed, his internal organs were separate issue. He ran a diagnostics program on his suit. He had shattered his wrist, broken several ribs and major internal haemorrhaging, among the blood, burns, and bruises that covered his body.

…_.. Ow._

Mercifully, he blacked out as his body shut down to heal. Once unconscious his body began to automatically mend itself. His bones melded together, organs repaired and his skin began an accelerated speed of dermal regeneration.

He wakes again many hours later. Feeling good as new, but incredibly hungry, and thankful a indigenous predator had not chosen him as a meal, he dusts himself off, and sets off to observe the species that inhabit this new world.

Within twenty miles of the crash site he encounters his first large living mammal. It was a huge, had 2 massive white tusks protruding from its face and was completely covered with a thick woolly fur. The information transmitted from the vision confirmed this as a "mammoth". The name certainly did justice to the specimen. He hid in the nearest foliage to prevent himself from being spotted. There was no threat to him, but he really didn't want to mess up the possible evolution of another species. Upon looking closer there were also several small smaller beings circling it. He immediately thought the woolly animal would demolish the smaller species, it appeared that the smaller beings used strategy and teamwork ...in other-words, were intelligent.

_Could this be species I am looking for?_.

It was very possible. While contemplating the situation, the smaller beings had managed to harass the woolly creature until it was backed on to a cliff with a steep drop. He assumed they would stampede the mammal off the cliff, as primitive species would often preform such acts to capture prey larger than themselves. He was not disappointed.

After hearing a cry from the huge creature as it fell from the cliff, it was greeted by some loud war cries being emitted from the smaller beings. They were successful. The beast probably had enough meat to feed them for quite a while...His stomach instinctively grumbled.

He waited until they had finished cutting up the creature and, watching from the trees, had followed them back to their dwellings and confirmed his suspicions. These were indeed the species from the vision. These were the "Cryo-magnon"(Early ancestor of the modern homo sapiens.). He noticed some structural similarities between this species and himself however there was still a while, as their evolution on this planet had only begun. He watched them gather around a fire and proceed to eat the meat they had hunted. Quickly and to avoid being spotted he quickly retreated from area and proceed to find some where to rest for the night.

Finding a rocky outcropping covered in foliage, he lay down under the watch of the stars as his thoughts want back to the indigenous. They were still a primitive species and it would take a several thousand years to evolve into a ordered society and thousands more to develop space flight. He would have to wait... a VERY long time before the reapers were once again a threat. He knew they were out there, at the very edge of the galaxy, waiting for their time. _This time..__THIS TIME I WOULD MAKE IT __RIGHT_ he vowed to himself.

He looked at the stars again. It would be a very long time before he would be among them again. But at least he wasn't ALONE any more...


	4. Chapter 4 : The Normandy

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE **

Enter Commander Jane Shepard

Date: Current point in Mass Effect Storyline after the destruction of the Collector Base.

POV: Jane Shepard (FemShep)

Paragon... with a backbone.

Saved Council.

Saved Rachni queen.

Rewrote geth.

All squad members survived.

Destroyed Collector base.

Location: The Normandy

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They did it.

They F*CKIN DID IT!

Commander Jane Shepard lay slumped against the wall in the med bay with a ridiculous grin on her face. She was exhausted and injured, but her face told otherwise. She had accomplished the unthinkable: She had gone and attempted a suicide mission; She ended up saving the galaxy and coming back alive.

Unfortunately the Normandy was barely holding itself together, so the entire crew was working round the clock on repairs. Mordin was administering help, Grunt, Jacob and Garrus was helping to carry away heavy beams and Dr. Chakwas was patching her up in the med bay. Legion and Tali were repairing the engine with the Donnelly's, and the rest of her team were either resting or helping the others. The drive core had taken a toll from the crash on the Collector base. They were lucky they made it out in one piece or even at all. In a double turn of bad luck, after telling the Illusive man to piss right off, he withdrew most of his funds from her account that was going to repairs. That was a under handed move, but at least everyone was still alive.

Shepard had no idea what she would have done without the help of her team. They were truly best of the best. They had turned a complete suicide mission into a walk in the park with just 12 people. It was remarkable and not to be taken for granted. She couldn't imagine doing all this if she was alone.

Her thoughts turned dark as she began raising memories of her past. She was born and raised on Mindoir, a small border colony in the Attican Traverse. A space probe had crashed near the town when she was in-utero, and among the ten infants who were exposed to the element zero, she was the only one to develop biotic powers. She had went through hell during that time and became a scapegoat after most of the other children had died of cancer. When she was sixteen, slavers raided Mindoir, slaughtering her family and friends. She was the sole survivor of the attack because of her biotic powers and was saved by a passing Alliance patrol days later. During the attack everyone she knew had been killed. She had almost no recollection of the event. Only among her closest friends, had she even hinted toward her past. She kept those door firmly shut.

She enlisted with the military a few years later because she had no where else to go. She was alone during that time, so alone..

She slapped herself.

Before her emotions threatened to overcome her senses she quickly pushed the memory to the back of her head. It was time to think about present matters. After all, there was much rejoicing to be done. They had done it. She had completed two things she never thought would happen. The collectors and their human-reaper were gone forever and when the illusive man started complaining, she told him to take the collector base and shove-it-right-up-his...

"Commander!"

She immediately darted upward and almost knocks heads with Dr. Chakwas, the medical doctor aboard the ship. She was an elderly woman that was a dear friend from the original Normandy, that still enjoyed working well into retirement age and enjoying the occasional bottle of Serrice ice brandy.

"Hello? You still there?" the elderly woman says, waving her hand in front of her face. She looks up to see the doctor standing in front of her.

"Yeah, sorry about that, sorta got lost in thought." she replies.

"I don't blame you, I need some time too. Its going to take awhile to forget seeing so many bodies..." the doctors eyes unfocus and her voice trails off. She quickly snaps back to the present moment.

"And you need some rest! Your barely walking as it is! As your doctor I order you to get some rest. And don't even think about going to the shuttle bay to help the others! I'm sure everything is under control."

"Yes, mother" Shepard says sarcastically. Chakwas rolls her eyes and sits back down to look at some papers. Shepard exits the med bay and starts limping toward the elevator. She notices the empty seats in the mess hall, some of the crew had already been "processed" before they reached the base...They will surely be remembered.

Just as she enters the elevator she nearly runs into Grunt.

"Grunt, feeling better?" she asks. After the destruction of the human Reaper they had practically been squashed as the platforms they were fighting on had dropped straight down. All three of them had blacked out, and Grunt's arm was barely attached to his body after they awoke. However, that didn't stop him, as he got up and continued firing his Krogan shotgun one-handed like a madman.

"Much better. But that was nothing, we've both been through worse. Ah, the benefits of a redundant nervous system." He said with a toothy grin.

Shepard rubbed the back of her neck. "Uh, yeah, humans don't have that."

"No?, well you're still standing." He said, banging both of his fists together. "We fought a great fight Shepard, and for that I am proud to call you my battle-master." Then without a word more, he leaves, presumably back to his quarters.

She enters the elevator and proceeds to push the button for the shuttle bay when EDI's voice springs from nowhere.

"Shepard, I will not allow you to go anywhere but your Cabin. Chakwas has given you specific instructions to get some rest."

_Crap, I forgot about EDI_

"Fine EDI. Have you finished decrypting the reaper schematics yet?" Shepard asks.

"They are almost finished. They should be completed by the time you wake" Says the blinking hologram. "in several hours."

_God, their all acting like my mom._

"Thanks EDI"

The elevator stops at the her quarters and Shepard steps into her loft. It was exactly how she left it and there was no visual damage to this part of the ship, the thinks...till she turns toward her fish tank and finds all of them floating at the top of the water.

_With all this time spent Saving-the-Galaxy, who has time to feed the fish? _

Feeling too tired to clean out the tank she staggers toward her bed, sets her alarm and drops down onto the mattress fully suited. Within seconds of her head hitting the sheets, she is asleep.

.

She stirs and opens her eyes wide in terror, then recognizes her quarters and relaxes. Her body aches in places she didn't even know she had.

She glances at the time and her eyes fly open again. She had been asleep for nearly twelve hours!

_I remember turning my alarm on...EDI must have disabled it. Dammit EDI._

She lifts herself out of bed and realizes that she is still in her armor. Slowly removing the pieces of the suit, she notices heavy damage. It had to be repaired - with their nonexistent funds. Most of her armor is encrusted with dried blood. Most of it was hers.

Slowly limping toward the bathroom, she lets her armor pieces fall to the floor as she removes them. She did not have the will nor the energy to spend doing anything more.

She dragged herself to the mirror.

Her dark, shoulder length red hair was riddled with dirt and grime. Her cheeks were gaunt and dark circles surrounded her eyes. She looked and felt like hell. As least she still had a face.

She turned the knobs on the shower all the way and just stood under the waterfall for a long time without moving. Nothing was heard except for the sound of running water for a long time.

.

After putting on the "new" uniform. (She removed the Cerberus insignia.) She takes the elevator down.

First stop was Joker. She found him talking to EDI, the ships resident AI.

_"_EDI, we've got venting from the number 16 lithium heat sink_." _He says, his hands darting to and fro on the board. He noticed her approaching with his new mirror he had gotten for himself_. _For, you know... Just in case.

"Hey Commander, I was starting to think a collector sneaked aboard and killed you in your sleep" he said, as she approached the helmsman.

"Jeff, I have repeatedly told you, she was given orders to rest." replied the ever-present A.I.

Shepard turns to face the hologram. "I put my alarm on but for some reason it was disabled. Would you know anything about this EDI?" asked Shepard with a cocked eyebrow.

"You needed the rest commander, you've been through a lot." EDI replies.

"I agree with EDI Commander, we barely escaped with our lives less that seventy-two hours ago if you happened to forget." he replied.

"Guess your right Joker. Plot a course for Illium, we need to get to a dock to repair. EDI, is the decryption done?"

"Yes Shepard, I have forwarded the files to Anderson and your private terminal" The A.I answers.

"Good, I better go. And EDI?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Don't ever disable my alarm again."

"Of course Commander."

"See you commander" joker said. She wanted to find the other members of her crew, but decided against it. _I should let them rest_ she thought, _they deserve it_.

So she went back to her cabin and began the mind-numbing work of sorting through her mail. She opens her terminal.

_Computer voice__:_ "It has been 4 days and 13 hours since you last checked your Inbox...You have 53 unread messages!".

Shepard lowered her head to her desk. Ugh, this would take forever...

Most of the mail she received was spam or junk mail except for a few she had received from people she had helped during her travels. She loved reading those. She also sent a message to Anderson for a meeting and a request to meet the council. Hopefully with the schematics EDI uploaded, she could finally prove the existence of the reapers to their thick-headed skulls. She couldn't wait till she saw the look on the Turians face...

And... she was done. With a satisfied nod, she proceeded to look through the Reaper tech schematics, when she was interrupted by a voice over the COM. It was joker.

"Commander... I know you really don't want to hear this, but the Illusive man wants to speak with you..."


	5. Chapter 5 : Pirates

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

Date: Current point in Mass Effect Storyline after the destruction of the Collector Base.

POV: The Wanderer

Location: A Ship in the Terminus systems.

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It was time, he had to move again.

He had tried to keep his cover as best as he could the past few hundred years after leaving Earth. He moved every couple decades years or so, trying to keep himself as isolated as possible in order to lessen the chance of someone recognizing him. It would raise flags if someone saw the same being, a few hundred years later, with no visible signs of aging. He had to avoid the Asari and the Drell the most though. Asari had millennial life-spans and with their mind-melding they could surly find out who he was, and Drell had perfect memories. A glance and split second of recognition would cost him.

His thoughts drifted back to the humans. Under his watchful eyes and light guidance, the human race had evolved greatly on earth and he couldn't mistake their species' almost identical appearance to his. One could not tell the difference with a quick glance. On his time on earth, he had occasionally crossed paths and lived with the humans, and when he did, he found himself intertwined in their history and legends. A similar occurrence happened with the Protheans. Thank goodness most of them were distorted over the years by oral tradition, or he would be wrongly labeled as a god...And just as he planned, they had developed space travel and found the data-disk he had left on Mars. The information on the disk propelled their technology hundreds of years into the future, and with that, he had a chance to live among the stars again where he belonged.

The next part he regarded as incredibly confusing. Much to his horror, Sovereign had awoken early. Much to his surprise, the reaper had been delayed after its waking.

_Was the Prothean plan working?_

A human by the name of Commander Jane Shepard had stepped in, defeated Sovereign and saved the galaxy; for the time being. How and when she did, he did not know. Just when he decided it was time to finally meet the famous Commander, she was listed as missing-in-action. Her ship was torn apart by an unknown ship. She was spaced. He returned to the shadows.

A few weeks ago he had discovered that she was spotted alive again. He jumped. Abandoning all traditional personal protocols dictating that he remained a complete ghost, he believed the time was right for the first phase of his re-introduction. He re-opened half of his bank accounts, activated the lowest level of his information network and began moving more frequently. He absolutely NEEDED to find this "Shepard" a.s.a.p. and find out what had happened. He needed to get out of the Terminus systems and find the Commander. Now if he could only find a way out...

_._

The Wanderer was in a pickle. Hoping to get a ride out of his temporary residence in the Terminus systems, he snuck on a departing frigate as a stowaway, and hoped for the best. Once he was within Council space it was smooth sailing. He had a contact to move him to the next temporary station. Of course, nothing ever goes according to plan.

It just so happens that he was on a human ship, and it was a target for a passing Batarian pirate ship. The ship had a low-power weapons system that put up nearly no resistance. Pirates either killed or enslaved; with some reluctance and part annoyance, he had to fight his way out of this one. He could not let his identity be compromised this early.

From his place in the hold he could hear a crew-member chatter over the short-range com. One of them had sent out a distress signal, but he knew it was futile. Ships this far out usually never replied to a distress signal, as the area was chock-full with passing Geth or Batarians. They were at the mercy of the pirates.

Seconds later a large shudder could be felt as the pirates docked.

_Sigh._

The Wanderer finds a terminal on the far end of the hold and hacks into the ships cameras to watch the scene unfold. A few of the crew members had stood around the entrance with sub machine guns to try to ambush the pirates, but the pirates were wearing kinetic barriers on their suits and quickly put down the crew. Then they proceeded to gather them and lead them back to their ship (then probably sold into slavery). All the while The Wanderer was watching from behind a crate in the hold.

Footsteps broke his concentration on the screen. They were here.

"You there, Hath'ron and Forhan, make a sweep of the cargo hold." he heard a voice say.

The voice was undoubtedly coming from a batarian. The batarians were known for their utter distrust of the human species because of a bad decision from the council after Humans had moved onto their colonization space without asking. It was probably why they were attacked in the first place. Pirating in the Terminus systems was great for them. They got slaves wholesale and had no one to stop them, which would normally be a win-win situation for them, but it just so happens the Wanderer was on board so things wern't about to "go down" as smoothly.

The two Batarians that had been called started heading toward the spot he hid. Now was his time to act. A few seconds of surprise was everything. From the sound of their footsteps he estimated they were roughly two feet from each other and "Forhan" was just around the corner from where he hid. He had to act fast.

Just as he heard "Forhan's" boot click against the metal grating to the right of him, he spun, grabbed the Batarian head with his right hand, covered his mouth with his left hand, snapped his neck and spun back into place still holding the body. The entire series of events lasted barely more than a second and the pirate never knew what hit him. Moments later "Hath'ron" approached, not knowing what had befallen his comrade... and the same fate befell him.

After dragging the bodies to the end of the hold, he cautiously crept back to the front, watching for any pirates that just might happen to cross paths with him.

"What's taking them so long?" muttered the voice. The "voice" started moving toward the hold when suddenly another tremor rocked the ship.

Another ship had docked at the frigate.

_More pirates?_ the warrior thinks as he leans closer to the wall and listens closely. The silence was then abruptly shattered by the sound of gunfire coming from the other end of the ship.

_No. Someone got the distress signal. __He could not think of many who would take that risk._

_Alliance military perhaps?_ he thinks as he creeps closer to the lone Batarian, who is now nervously holding a rocket launcher and yelling at the others.

He hoped that the rescuers were friendly. They would not like what they saw.

A large explosion sounded as the door in front of the pirate fell of its hinges. The Batarian turned and started firing rockets through the open portal. He fired them neither accurately nor with any regard that they inhabited a small space. The idiot was liable to blow himself up.

He calmly raised his pistol to the back of the batarians head and pulled the trigger. A single shot rang out and the body fell. Another batarian ran though the door hoping to hold out in the hold. It walked right into the barrel of the Wanderer's outstretched gun. Another round found itself buried in the skull of a pirate.

He needn't waste his time searching for cover. He would either kill the next thing that walked through the door or thanks them for a way out.

The gunfire stopped and all was quiet again. He heard short shouts. Military men swarmed the ship. He recognized humans, but not Alliance. He noticed the black and yellow insignia on their suits. Cerberus. It had been quite awhile since he had seen them.

Cerberus ops approached the door guns drawn. He calmly holstered his pistol and raised his hands. They searched the hold while keeping their guns on him. Over the comm he heard, "All clear. Four bodies. All batarians."

"You do this?"one of the operatives said to him, motioning to the bodies at his feet.

The Wanderer slowly reached for the pistol as his belt. All five of the operatives raised their guns quickly toward him nervously.

_Calm down._

The Wanderer gently gripped the rear of his pistol with his thumb and forefinger to demonstrate that his hand was no where near the trigger. He ejected the heat sink. It was hot. Evidently, he had fired his weapon.

They lowered their weapons.

"A simple 'yes' would have sufficed." said the operative. "Who are you? These shots are not from an amateur."

"Someone who wants to get the hell out of here." The Wanderer said, opening his mouth for the first time. "Is this ship capable on continuing its voyage?"

"No." said the operative. "The filthy barbarians ripped a nice hole in the side of the ship..."

"Keep a lid on it, Johnson."said another, interrupting him. A superior.

"We're were heading to Illium" Said the Cerberus operative, "when we intercepted your distress call. It looks like we arrived right on time. We can drop you off at port if you want. Thip ship is in no shape to pass through a relay."

He heard a human crew member shout through the doorway, "Yes, but what about the cargo?!"

"That's your problem." said the operative. "You should be lucky you're not in a cage right now." he motioned to him. "Follow us."

As the other operative freed the bound crew-members the Wanderer quickly moved himself to the Cerberus vessel. He did not say a word when the crew members shot him weird looks. He leaned forward and thought.

_Now to find Shepard..._

The Cerberus operative with the runny mouth leaned against the wall of the ship staring at the unknown's eye catching suit and the bizarre object on its back.

_Was that a sword? Who in their right mind used a sword in this day and age? _

This was out of the ordinary and something to report.

He contacted the Illusive man.

"Sir..."


	6. Chapter 6 : Illusive Man

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

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_"Sir..."_

In the eyes of the few people who had ever seen or spoken to the Illusive man, they would have all said the same thing. He was cold, calm and collected, with a suit and cigarette. Classy and ruthless. If one were to see him right now they would have described him in a very different light.

The Illusive man was on edge.

He was fidgeting in his chair and had burned more cigarettes than usual. Although he was furious, he would never outwardly show it. His mind however, was a different story.

_We had it. The collector base, the prototype reaper, the beacon, everything. Cerberus would have been the ones leading the alliance, leaving humans with enough tech to overtake every other citadel race. But no. Shepard decides to be high and mighty, and blows the entire thing to kingdom come where we can't even reach..._

Two word managed to break free from his thoughts even if it was just an incoherent mummer.

"Goddammit Shepard."

He never swore. He had also never before been so close to advancing human technology a few hundred years into the future, well ahead of any other race. The tech in the base could have given humans a huge advantage over other races and given them a solid chance against the Reapers.

He shut his eyes. He took a long drag. He calmed down. Well, Shepard had managed to destroy the Collectors, so the galaxy was inheritly safe for the time being. Even if she did cut ties from Cerberus, she knew what she was doing...

The hollow in front of him blinked once and displayed the words:

"INCOMING MESSAGE from Cerberus vessel # 103; Location:Edge of the Terminus systems."

He pressed the private Comm button..."Yes?" he answered.

"Sir, we intercepted and rescued a human frigate from the Batarians on the edge of the terminus systems. No human casualties, but we came across something strange on-board. He appears to be human but he's unlike something I've ever seen. I'm sending you a holo of the guy. I tagged him as a person of interest." The voice stopped speaking, expecting the Illusive man to give him instructions.

The Illusive man was going to ask him if he was mentally challenged to be bothering him for such a random reason, but his mind stirred as he glanced at the image.

Was was that? A sword? Black Armor?, Humanoid shape?

_Where have I seen that before_? he thought.

He booted his interface and began searching through his archives. He ran a broad meta search and nothing of relevance came up. As far as he concerned, he did not exist. He tried his list of specters and special persons. Freelance mercs. Nothing looked remotely similar. Out of sheer boredom he ran the visual tags with his own database. It contained information on the protheans. Seconds later he got a multiple hits. They were pictures of Prothean relics and inscriptions found on Ilos, another on Feros, and another on Therum. All three bore the same image and inscription. It held a description of a timeless warrior. A new race. Singluar. A warrior of sorts described to be clad in black, a warrior that had a huge 'blade' and was explicitly stated_ not_ a Prothean. The name? "Wanderer". Probably some legend.

Still, the coincidence was uncanny.

His curiosity was now running in full gear, he scans through more info. There were more images, but they were recent. One caught his eye. Someone had some vids posted on the extranet of accidents or natural disasters around the galaxy run by self-proclaimed 'truth seekers' and conspiracists; where the person or persons involved had either been either trapped or near death. Archive was labeled as "the unsolved miracles of the universe." he rolled his eyes.

He selected the first. Just as this Turian was about to be crushed under 2 tones of stone, he was suddenly pushed aside violently. Something had intervened and left as soon as possible.

He slowed the frame rate and looked closer...Or a blur.

He selects another. This one had caused quite a stir awhile back. A small group of blood pack mercenaries are about to execute a eclipse Asari commando. Just before the Krogan fires the final shot, there is a sudden and abrupt furry of movement before the camera is jostled around before it is destroyed. The Asari appears later in another security tape unharmed.

And another. A Salarian research team are unearthing Prothean dig site under the planet of Sharring. A massive boulder is shaken from the ceiling of the cave and just before the rock impacts the scientists, it shattered into several pieces. Or segmented, the lines of the "cracks" appear to be clean cuts straight through the solid stone. There were no known Prothean force fields functional on the planet.

And another. This video taken by a reputable news agency. The spectator had been filming a human ambassador at a public demonstration for maintaining good relations with the aliens: Taken just ten years ago. Unbeknown to the spectator an assassin had a sniper rifle pointed out of a window towards the ambassador. Before the shot is taken however, the body simply falls from the 20 story building. A bullet to the head. None had come forward as the Ambassador's savior. Even the detail assigned to protect the ambassador had no idea who had done it.

And one more. This time he had personally been there. First contact war. Someone in a dark suit had boarded a turian craft and single-handedly brought it down on a passing patrol. No one had come froward so they assumed the hero had perished. Still, there were stories.

Slowing the frames to low frame rates he could make out glimpses of a dark humanoid shape, traveling at incredible speeds, saving these trapped individuals from certain death. He was momentarily stunned.

_Was this man real? No. But, what were the chances? Nill._

"Hello, is the line still open?" Said the Cerberus op, still waiting for a response.

"Yes." replied the Illusive man. He stared at the images for a few more seconds. "Please send this man to Station B13. "

"Yes, sir"

The line closed.

The Illusive man stared out of his office window, watching the star behind him. Was this a lucky break?

_Absolutely not. It was impossible._

It would be impossible that a being from the Prothean time would be alive today. Then again Shepard kept defying the impossible...

_If it is impossible, why am I still curious?_

He lit up another cigarette.

.

On route to the nearest port, they turned direction and personally told him the Illusive man wanted to talk to him.

It shocked him stiff and he didn't move a muscle. He thought he had hid himself well over the years. Clearly not well enough. He was prepared to massacre the entire ship if need be. He would not be compromised this early.

From what intel he had gathered over the last 30 years, The Illusive man was described as having the best and worst traits of humanity rolled into one man. He was an information broker and also the head of Cerberus: a pro-human group that did what ever they could to get the job done. Usually not pleasant things, but they got what they wanted nevertheless. The Wanderer had been at first contact war. He had known when a man known as Jack Harper had buried his closest friends and his past to become the 'Illusive man'; the leader of Cerberus.

After docking at a remote station in the middle of nowhere, Cerberus operatives told him to go down a flight of the stairs and into a room on his left_._ He complied, although reluctantly. The station was devoid of human life. Everything was fully automated.

He entered the room. A holo-com lay in the center. As soon as he stepped in the circle, a cylinder of sensors rose from the floor to render his image into a hologram. He looked in front of him and he could see a person so few had the chance to see, or even speak to. The Illusive man was sitting with his back to him staring at the star that lit up the room. He turned.

The Illusive man stared at him for a good minute, unsure what to say or do next. He looks to the holo-projector on his desk. It was trying to gather information about the being situated in the sensors range, but nothing was being found. No birth records on any planet, no residential records, no ship records, not even any DNA records in case this person had used an alias. He checked the Shadow broker's archive to match any information "he" might have on "The Wanderer"...Nothing. The man standing in front of him did not exist, he was essentially a living ghost. His strange black suit matched the inscriptions. It seemed to completely absorb any heat emissions and any scent from being leaked. Nothing proved he had ever lived except for pictures of the artifacts bearing his resemblance and few shady vids depicting nothing more than a silhouette. And of course, the fact that he was standing before him. The pressure pad most definitely registered a weight.

He got up from his chair and walked slowly to the holo. His cold cybernetic eyes scrutinized him.

"Who are you?"

He said nothing.

"Where did you get that suit?"

Nothing.

"Are you the one they call the Wanderer?"

Woah. The Wanderer was genuinely surprised. The Illusive man was the first ever this cycle to make that connection. The Illusive man was also getting annoyed.

"If you don't answer, I will be forced to use force. You are situated in the terminus systems, with no-one to help you. It would not be wise to ignore me."

He finally opened his mouth.

"If you value your men and your station," he said, with complete and utter seriousness. "I would not press further, but yes." he said giving a slow nod. "I am the one you say I am."

Lying would not help in this situation. If the Illusive man figured him a nobody, he would not be allowed to leave alive.

No one had even make a threat like that to him in a seemingly hopeless situation before. He knew something he didn't. The Illusive man forced himself to say something. "Normally I'm never at a loss of words, but a complete lack of records show you don't exist. Who...or what, are you?"

"You will have to forgive me, but I'm not exactly the type to give information like that to someone like you." said the Warrior.

The Illusive man sat back down and his cold, hard personality returned. "You know about the Reapers then?"

He nodded.

The Illusive man grew contemplative. If this was real, there was a treasure trove of knowledge awaiting. A physical examination and interrogation would do wonders. Then again, he didn't want to risk juggling with something he knew nothing about. There are other ways. He instantly thought of one. Shepard.

He asked another question. "Can you help us?"

The warrior nodded again. "However, I would need something small in return."

"What would that be?" asked the Illusive man, thinking that he wanted an exuberant sum of credits or perhaps information.

"I need to find Commander Shepard"

The Illusive man almost dropped the cigarette he was holding. A small grin was spread across his face.

"You've got yourself a deal."


	7. Chapter 7 : Dossier

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

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_With a satisfied nod, she proceeded to look through the Reaper tech, when she was interrupted by a voice over the COM. It was joker._

_"Commander I know you really don't want to hear this, but the Illusive man wants to speak with you..._

_._

She waited for a second to hear Joker make a wise-crack, but he didn't.

"Joker can you repeat that please" she asked, still thinking it was a joke.

"Sorry Commander but you heard me right. He wants a word" Joker quickly turns off the comm. He did not want to hear what would come next.

Confused and fuming, she gets up and heads down to the Comm room. _I THOUGHT I GAVE HIM THE MESSAGE LAST TIME, _she thought.

When she steps into the room, the table immediately lowers and begins the holo-transfer. She steps into the array of sensors and the image of the irked commander materializes in the Illusive man's office.

He is sitting in his usual chair but without his cigarette in hand. Unusual.

He looks up toward her and notices the removed Cerberus Insignia. He gives a smirk. "I know we are not on the best of ter..."

"No, we are not." Shepard interrupts, "And I thought I told you I don't work for you any more."

"...but hear me out" he finishes. "I just sent you a dossier on someone I think you might want to recruit to your team. There's not much information on him so I sent whatever I had gathered...which surprisingly isn't mu..."

"And what makes you think I'll recruit him?!" she interjected again.

Annoyed about the constant interruption, the Illusive man stopped talking and looks directly at her, his eerie cybernetic eyes glowing in the darkness.

"I know you'll recruit him because you need all the help you can get, whether you admit it or not. I brought you back to life because humanity needed a leader, and I worked to surround you with the smartest, the toughest, the deadliest allies I could find. I have no doubt your team is strong and their loyalty is second to none. You rid the galaxy of the Collectors and that was great accomplishment, however what's coming is much more powerful than the collectors and you are one of the few people that acknowledge that. So, I hope you consider what I'm offering you. I'm giving you help. Right now, no strings attached. Whether you look at that dossier or not is your choice, but I'm telling you, your going to want to see this one."

And with that said, he closes the Channel. Shepard stood there stunned and angry, because deep down she knew everything he had just said was true. Feeling conflicted she slowly makes her way back to her cabin for the second time that day.

She opens her Terminal and sees the message the Illusive man had sent her. She opens it. Inside is a Dossier attached to several images. She opens the Dossier and starts reading. It was incredibly brief.

Full Name: Unknown

Alias: "The Wanderer"

Gender: Male

Species: To be determined. Humanoid characteristics.

"What?, She says, _The illusive man gives me a guy with no real name and is not even sure what species he is?_

She continues reading.

Eye Colour: ?

Skin Colour: ?

Hair Colour: ?

Height: Approximately 7 ft in full combat suit.

Weight: Approximate 400 lbs in combat suit.

"Interesting...his limbs are being held together by solid metal."

Native Profession: ?

Current location: ?

Contact # : ?

Extranet mail contact # : ?

The rest of the fields were simply left blank.

"Clearly, someone who doesn't like the spotlight." She continues reading.

Distinguishing characteristics : Jet Black armored suit - Ornately designed, ancient design, large sword

"Large sword?" This was too weird.

Age: Undetermined but suggested to supersede the protheans. 50,000 +

She blinked and refreshed the document just in case. " There has to have been a typo..."

Notable service: Involvement in a wide variety of historical events.

She closes the document in exasperation.

What the hell was the Illusive man trying to do? He had never pulled this on her before. When he talked to her he had appeared completely serious, so this stumped her completely.

She opens the image files. To her surprise there were images after images of Prothean artifacts. She skims them over and stops on one. She remembered seeing this image on Ilos as they were chasing after Seran. Of course, at the time they couldn't stop and appreciate the scenery. Since the Cipher had been transferred to her mind, she had gained an understanding of the Prothean language. Amid the almost eroded letters she could make out some of what was there. She squinted and struggled to make out the words: "Wanderer", "life", "reapers", "old", "powerful", warrior", "darkness". All very mysterious and confusing.

At the end of the string of images was the location where she would meet him.

**Illium**

…. and conveniently that's just where they were headed...


	8. Chapter 8 : First Meeting

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_At the end of the images was the location where she would meet him._

_He would be on Illium, and thats just where they were headed..._

_._

They were there.

Upon arriving at a repair dock she called a "vacation" for everyone on the ship as they deserved a much needed R & R after battling the Collectors. She suited up with her half-broken armor and called Miranda and Garrus to the airlock to accompany her. Miranda arrived first.

"What do you need Commander?" She asked as she arrived at the lock. She saw Shepard putting on her battle gear. "I"m suppose we're not going shopping?"

"Unfortunately not" she replied. "And please call me Jane. We're friends now so none of this Commander-bullshit when we're not on a mission. I'm meeting some guy TIM recommended we recruit."

Miranda's eyes went wide. "Illusive man? I thought you were done with him after you told him to..."

"I did, I was, but he sent me another dossier... and I think he's playing a joke on us. Read it."

Shepard handed her the dossier on a data-pad.

Miranda Lawson started reading the notes and stared hard at the page in front of her, as if deciding what she was reading was real or not.

"So..." She began, "He wants us to recruit a man, who doesn't exist, and whom he has no information on. Are you sure this is from him? I have never seen him send out anything like this before."

"That's exactly what I was thinking" Shepard stated.

Seconds later Garrus himself came walking up the steps fully dressed in civilian attire. He looked at both of them and their fully armed suits.

"Did I miss the memo?"

.

Shortly-thereafter all three were walking through the lower levels of the slums district. Shepard was not prepared for what she saw. Having only been the well-to-do parts of Illium, she was reminded that poverty still existed just outside the main city gates. It was definitely one of the sketchiest places other than Omega that Shepard had ever been to. There was garbage everywhere, faces appeared then disappeared from dirty and broken windows, and a smell that lingered. There was a reason however, she thought, for this location. Illium was known for its near-total surveillance, yet she had yet to see a single camera or security measure to record them in this place. If the Illusive man wasn't able to gather much on this individual, then whoever they were meeting took huge measures to keep himself off the grid. She expected a meeting location nowhere less then where they currently ventured into.

Shepard glanced at Miranda. She noticed the ex-Cerberus operative looking over he shoulder much too often. Her face was serious, as always. Garrus, on the other hand, was at ease. With a huge sniper-rifle on his back and experiences from his time on Omega, this was just like any other day.

"Please tell me again how you persuaded me to come down here?" asked Miranda.

"You know, I'm starting to wonder myself. We are supposed me meet him at the rendezvous point at exactly 1200 hours" Shepard answered.

All and all, the slums were just like you imagined it. Pollution everywhere and a layer of fog that seemed to cover everything.

.

"Do you see what I see?" the eclipse mercenary said to his comrade.

"Aww c'mon, this isn't the time for I-spy. I've been on duty all night and we haven't seen anything worth reporting."

"Shut up and look."

The tired mercenary sluggishly got up from his seat and approached the viewing console.

"Alright so what so damned interesting you gotta... Holy shit."

"So, should we report it?"

"What the hell is Commander Shepard doing all the way down here... Yeah! What are you waiting for!? Sound the alarm! Do you know the price on her head? We'll have enough creds to retire tomorrow!"

He alerted every eclipse mercenary in the area. The reward for her head was worth a small fortune.

.

Shepard's soldier sense was buzzing like crazy. Long ago, her instructor had made her train so very hard; Lessons in fire-team integration, hand-to-hand combat, battlefield tactics, biotic training, zero-g- fighting, the works. They were all hardwired instincts now. But that didn't mean the underlying biological impulses were worthless. Quite the opposite. If she bet money on all the times her instincts were right, she'd be a billionaire.

The area they found themselves in was the worst possible place for a firefight. They could easily get cornered and ambushed, not to mention plenty of available areas for snipers all around.

"This should be the place, but I don't see anyone. Its nearly 1200." Miranda says looking down at her omni-tool.

Garrus is also feeling something. His intuition had also never let him down. It had saved him time after time on omega and right now him brain was telling him to GTFO. He mutters to the others while keeping his eye on the scope of his sniper. "I've got a really bad feeling about this".

"Me too, something isn't right."

The Commander looks around. For an post-industrialized slum on Illium it was strangely empty. It was quiet...too quiet. She looked at the time. 1150.

The sound of a gun getting loaded broke the silence.

"Shit"

The three immediately formed into battle formation but there was little cover. They were backed into a corner of buildings like trapped rats. There was was only good one barrier they could use for cover, and it was cramped with all three members of Shepard's squad crouching behind it. Seconds later in a fury of activity, they were surrounded by at least two dozen Eclipse mercenaries holding pistols, sub machine guns, sniper rifles and a rocket launcher. They opened fire without warning.

Shoot first and ask questions later.

Miranda and Shepard put up their biotic barriers and broke for the next cover and proceeded to lay the smack down on the Eclipse mercenaries while Garrus was popin head-shots like it was his day job. Three cracks from his rifle and three less mercenaries were left alive.

Garrus duck and ran from the barrier. It exploded seconds later from a rocket. His barriers absorbed a couple light shots but nothing serious.

Shepard used lift on two of the mercs and Miranda used a warp, the combined powers sending the bodies dive bombing into the wall with a sickening crunch.

Shepard fired a burst, then another. Another down. Reload. Burst, burst, reload.

Shepard realized she was running out of sinks.

Garrus came rushing over. He had forced to back up and switch to his assault rifle. There were too many and they were too close. The mercenaries had good cover and blocked their way out of the area. They were running out of options and time.

"Dammit" Garrus growled, "I knew it was a trap"

He disables the nearest mech. He fires his rifle into one of the overhanging buildings and a mercenary falls out. He checks his comm, the mercs had disabled their communications equipment.

In a twist of fate, they made a amateur mistake and reloaded at the same time. It let a window of opportunity for a brief few seconds.

Their weapons were overloaded by sentinels in the Eclipse group. As Shepard attempted to use lift on the group of mercenaries covering a way out, three well placed shock-waves from the biotic mercenaries threw them against the nearest wall.

Her already nearly-totaled suit was falling apart and had landed HARD on the shield generator on her lower back.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit..._ Her shields generator was battered and fried. Were they goners? Fuck that. She just came back from the center of the galaxy. This was nothing. Finding reserves from somewhere within her she pulled an approaching eclipse lieutenant toward her in a flash of electric blue. A blade appeared in her hand and she held it up to the mans throat. A meat shield should cool things down. She wanted answers. The crossfire stopped.

"Let me guess, the Illusive man sent you guys?"

The merc wiggled in her grip but she held tight.

"Answer me!" she said, her voice betraying the sheer anger that was seething from the powerful woman.

"I don't know any Illusive man." The merc twisted and Shepard held tighter. She pressed the knife harder to his neck, drawing blood.

"All I know is that... you're in our territory..." He said, holding his hands up. ".. and Flex has issued a reward for your dead body."

In the back of the mercenary wall, she heard a rifle being reloaded.

"Then _who the __**hell**__ is the Wanderer?_" she yelled.

In the confusion, her omni-tool beeped to signify mid-day. 1200.

As if on cue, a dark object dropped from the top of the building, hitting the group right in the middle of the crossfire. Amidst the dust and debris was her contact.

The sound of a sniper round being deflected was sounded.

Standing in front of her was a being, roughly seven feet tall, completely clad in jet black combat armor holding a chunk of metal, a sword as big as she was. He held his massive thing in front of him like shield and deflected a snipers projectile; he had likely saved someones life.

"_That would be me._" He said with a surprisingly very deep and powerful voice.

She was bewildered.

Standing in front of her was a man that was either straight out of a comic book on the extranet or a legend. This was the man she was looking for, no doubt about it. The artifact on Ilos the Protheans created had a very accurate portrayal of him. His suit was etched with strange alien designs and seemed to glow in some places with cybernetic enhancements. Whatever he was holding seemed to be contain some as well. The suit, just like her's, was in tatters, but much, much more exotic looking.

She had so many questions to ask, but they would have to wait, they were still trapped.

The eclipse lieutenant in her arms did a double take. The third party had literally appeared out of thin air.

"And who the hell are you?"

The being in front of her spoke slowly.

"That is something you need not know. I have business with these three and they are worth infinitely more alive than dead. Before any blood is shed for such petty reasons, I will ask you to leave. If you do not, you will leave me with no choice. Take heed to my words. Do not take them lightly." He being tightened his grip on his weapon. The sound of metal scrapping upon metal was heard.

The eclipse mercenaries took a moment to analyze the situation. Shepard's crew few useable guns, Shepard had no shields and altogether no chance of retaliation. The new solider clad in black was far in front of them, too far for his sword to bridge the distance.

They all looked to the lieutenant, held hostage in Shepard's arms. He nodded. They were to take them all out.

"Fat chance bub." Said one of them taking aim, "You're going to die like the rest of..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Just as he was about to say "them", a hand covered in black armor slammed against his head as the space directly in front of him was suddenly occupied by a body. Its grip was tremendous. The body was violently thrown into the crowd of mercs. The rest of the mercenaries immediately raised their rifles at him and fired.

The Wanderer dissipated into a dark blur and the projectiles hit empty air. Seconds later the sound of rapidly moving air could be heard as the mercenaries closest to Shepard and her squad literally fell apart to pieces. Blood spurted from incredibly clean cuts and entrails spilled onto the group. The rest of the mercenaries immediately started firing in random directions out of pure fear.

Shepard watched the events unfold in slow motion. She was still in a state of shock and so was Miranda and Garrus. They were still standing there, motionless, watching but not believing what they were seeing. The Wanderer was single handedly disposing of an entire regiment of Eclipse mercenaries using only a sword and pistol.

She tried to watch him as fast as her eyes could allow. He ran between two other mercenaries. In one fell swoop he decapitated one and used the butt of the swords hilt to bash another through the skull. Just before he was shot, his sprinted with a super-human speed into another crowd of five of gun-men. His enormous sword deflected a sniper shot before it could reach him and sliced though a man to his right. A biotic threw a lift at him, but the blue fire dissipated as soon as it hit him.

_Was he immune to biotics? Was that physically possible?_

The iron clad warrior spun, using the momentum from the sword to impale a merc to the wall. He lifted his pistol and with one shot, the snipers head rolled back on its shoulders.

One gunman had the time to pull the trigger. The warrior jumped upward onto crate, did a front flip and found himself in the air above a mercenary. He delivered a bone-shattering reverse roundhouse-kick to the assailant below him. The rounds fired from the first mercenary hit his comrade instead. Another biotic tried warp on him but it was dissipated like the first one. He pulled his sword from the wall, the impaled body falling forward. With a flick of his sword he severed another head to the left and and spun, killing the three left next to him. Armour and shields had no difference on the mercenaries life-spans. One man had the notion of sneaking up on Shepards team when a single shot rang out and the mercenary fell.

Shepard watched him run, jump and move in short bursts of insane speed, and each time, another mercenary fell. In a flash the battle was over. It wasn't even a battle, it was a slaughter. She still held the lieutenant in her arms and a face of shock had permanently made itself known on the mercs face.

He stood among the bodies of a dozen dead mercenaries who had been utterly decapitated. He looked like a dark angel from hell. He put his sword back on his back and walked toward them. He stopped in front of her and looked deep into the eyes of the terrified merc. His helmet looked faintly like a skull.

"I told you not to take my words lightly." he said calmly.

"What... what... what the hell are you?!" the merc said, screaming.

"Complicated."

Shepard booted the remaining merc forward. The mercenary looked back once, and Shepard would never forget the look on the mans face. Complete and utter fear. He rushed to his feet and took off as fast as he could, almost slipping on the blood soaked ground -The blank faces of his dead comrades staring.

The thing known as the Wanderer looked on at the escaping mercenary.

"Sorry bub. There are a million reasons not to let you live, and that, was one of them."

He raised his pistol, and from a distance of a hundred meters, pulled the trigger. In the distance, the running form rumpled and fell unmoving.

He turned back to Shepard.

"You must be Commander Shepard. I am who you call The Wanderer. It's a pleasure to meet you; I've waited a very long time for this."

He held out his hand.


	9. Chapter 9 : Interview I

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_"You must be Commander Shepard. I am who you call The Wanderer. It's a pleasure to meet you; I've waited a very long time for this."_

He held out his hand.

.

"Likewise"

She shook it.

She was standing in front of him and examined his appearance up close. His suit completely covered him from head to toe, so no face or exposed limb could be seen. It was criss-crossed with deep cuts and bullet holes to the armors exterior; it was apparent that this suit had not been replaced or repaired for years. A soft green glow could be seen pulsating under some of the hard suit plates, and the style of the design looked...ancient. Almost like a suit of armor from the medieval time period, but more advanced. His sword was shaped unlike a sword she had ever seen. It was enormous in size. Instead of having a curved or straight blade, it was composed of a unique black metal that had a massive hilt, a slight curve and a design that was etched with emerald green circuitry. He was definitely not from this world or time period. The other unique characteristic was his helmet. It vaguely resembled a skull. This was indeed the man she was looking for. He turns to the two others with her. He holds out his hand to Garrus who was standing there with his mandibles nearly handing open. "Garrus Vakarian, I've heard a lot about you."

Garrus shakes his hand. "Good things I hope?" he says.

"Very" The Wanderer responds, "Your showdown on Omega, was quite impressive."

"Thank you...Wait? how did you know..."

Before Garrus could finish his sentence, The Wanderer turned to Miranda who hid her surprise well under her usual icy stare. Always the professional one.

"And you Miss..."

"Lawson" she replied

"It is good to meet you, Miranda." he said. This time her face slipped slightly to reveal a surprised look.

Just before she asked him how he knew her name, Shepard spoke.

"The Illusive man didn't give me many details about you, so I wanted to ask you a few questions about yourself and evaluate you aboard the Normandy, although as far as combat fitness goes,..." She looked back to the carnage. "...I think I've seen enough"

"Of course." He said. "I have some questions of mine I wish to discuss also. Preferably in a dead-zone."

"My ship, the Normandy, has a briefing room that can serve our purposes."

"Excellent."

Shepard led the way back to the ship.

Even with her galaxy-saving-celebrity-status and having a rank above any military force, she felt insignificant and tiny walking next to the being to the side of her. If everything about him turned out to be true, his experience spanned whole life-times of entire species. The entire walk back to the Normandy was in almost complete silence, aside from the passing of civilians on the way of the docks. A few recognized her and greeted her, while others avoided them after seeing a strange being with a huge sword on his back.

After boarding the Normandy and running the routine disinfection procedure, she led the group to the briefing room to question the Wanderer. It seemed was no one else on the ship besides them. Thank god for that.

"Alright. You guys can go and take a break, I gotta talk to him" Shepard said with the most nonchalant manner.

"You sure that's a good idea to do alone?" Garrus said, "What he did back there was...brutal... and I'm kinda interested." Garrus responded, scratching his chin with one of his talons.

Shepard shot them a look. "Suit yourself, this is your vacation time your wasting. EDI probably will have the entire thing recorded. Besides, I'm sure I can handle him."

Miranda gave her a look. _Riiiiight._

Garrus hit his head with his hand, as if remembering something. "I just remembered, gotta pick up some food supplies for me and Tali. I'll be right back."

They both nodded.

Shepard and Miranda sat down in the briefing room. Miranda put on her usual ice queen mode, sat up straight, looking ordered and professional, like always. Perfect posture with an unnerving cold eyes. Shepard sat down like a normal human being.

"So..."Shepard stated staring intently at him. "Tell me a bit about yourself". She thought about the vague generalization of the question and added: "Start with your real name."

As if from a dream, he spoke. "Many people know me as 'The Wanderer'. I had an actual name long ago before I was given this one by the Protheans..."

"Wait, wait, wait." Miranda interrupted him. "You said the _PROTHEANS_ gave you your name. I assume we're talking about the same ones that were wiped out by Reapers thousands of years ago?"

Miranda's interruption did not faze him. "Yes. As I said I had an actual name before the Protheans found me, but it has long been since forgotten. Time tends to do that. I've used an untold number of aliases since then."

"Will you allow us to see your face?" Asked Shepard, with immense curiosity.

He let out a deep throaty chuckle. "Of course, I leave it on for such long periods of time I forget its even there. Forgive me." He took his helmet in his hands and gave a twist to the right. An audible click and pneumatic hiss can be heard and Shepard holds her breath as she expected the most grotesquely hideous face. The being lifts the helmet up and over his head, then down to the table.

Both of them are shocked stiff. He looked nearly identical to any human. Nothing told otherwise.

He had short cut dark brown hair, a solid jawline and average sized nose and ears, with extremely pale skin; the effect of living in a suit, sunlight did not reach the skin. He even had stubble on his chin. However, what looked not human was his brilliant green eyes that shone like an emerald under light. They were steely and piercing. He seemed to stare right through you and into your soul. Aside from that he looked 'normal', and looked like he was not a day older that 30 years of age. Miranda and Shepard looked at each other. He had a striking appearance that would turn the head of any female within range.

"Damn, I hope I look that good when I'm your age." remembering when Ashley had said that to Liara, when she told them she was _only_ 103.

"How old are you really?" Asked Shepard. "I thought the dossier the Illusive man sent me must of had a typo, cause it stated fifty-thousand plus, but now you said you met the Protheans..."

The Wanderer thought. He had not revealed his age to anyone in a long time.

"A species measures time by the number of times their home planet revolves around their sun. Seeing as how these are different times, I would have to estimate I should be around, give or take a few thousand years...100, 000 years of age. I'm ball parking here."

Shepard's jaw dropped in disbelief. Miranda was trying hard to maintain her composure.

It was her who broke the Silence. "But that would make you older than any race known today, older than the Protheans..."

"Correct." Wanderer answered. "I am the last surviving member of a species from before the time of the Protheans. If you count each time the Reapers harvested the galaxy as a "cycle", then my species is one "cycle" behind the Protheans and two "cycles" before this time. You will have to forgive me, as I don't remember much about my race or most of its history. I do remember we were a highly advanced beings both technologically and mentally. Like humankind, we were late on the galactic scene, but that didn't stop us from climbing any faster. We warred infrequently, but there were always scrimmages. As well as developing ballistics and bombs, we dedicated our efforts to strengthening our bodies with technology. Something that time has shown to be capable of great and horrible things. Near the end of my time, I was part of an elite group of beings called the ..." he pauses, unable to remember "sorry I can not remember." He said shaking his head.

Miranda looked at the datapad in front of her. EDI had been monitoring his heart rate in case he was lying but everything he had said turned out to be true.

He stopped smiling."I did however remember questioning the origins of the mass relays after our species had "discovered" them and used them to colonize planets due to a rapidly expanding population. And for a while life was good...until the reapers arrived." His emerald eyes turned dark as if the very word brought darkness to the room..

Shepard and Miranda were on the edge of their seats listening intently. Shepard broke the silence.

"So You witnessed the Reapers? How are you not dead? How are you alive after all these years? So you met the Protheans? What were they like?" She was talking a mile a minute.

"Yes, I witnessed the Reapers. They destroyed everything I held dear, everything I knew. We managed to do as much as we could but were were horrendously outnumbered. We managed to destroy several of the course of the end-war."

Shepard zoned into what he just said. She had to discuss this with him later.

"As for my survival, I'm not exactly sure. I supposed one man in a battlefield the size of a galaxy can slip through the cracks. As for my lifespan, I'm a product of evolution and something even I do not completely understand. My species had grown and matured in the same star system for hundreds of thousands of years. We controlled our resources from the beginning and even with our advanced technology, we stayed near our home planet. Because of this, the Reapers couldn't return at the usual time because our population size was really, really small compared to any race today. They had to wait almost quadruple the amount of time to harvest in comparison to the Protheans and maybe even quintuple the time for this time around. I can tell you about the specifics now if your interested or later, as it is quite boring. As for the Protheans, I believe there are statues depicting their appearance on several worlds. Like Ilos..."

"So they look like humans, but crossed with tentacle like appendages?" Miranda asked.

"Essentially. Have you been to Ilos?" The Wanderer asked.

"Me and Garrus have, that's where we found the Conduit and the Archive." Shepard answered.

A subtle shift changed in the Wanderer's face, then his eyes seemed to light up.

"Wait, did you say the Archive?" He asked.

"Yes. That's where the Protheans had cryogenically froze themselves to escape the Reapers."

The Wanderer had a look of utter mortification on his face. "So, you went there...was there anyone left?"

Shepard came to the conclusion that The Wanderer was severely out of the loop. Then again practically no one had heard the full story, except for the council and her old team...She needed to update him.


	10. Chapter 10 : Interview II

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_The Wanderer was severely out of the loop. Then again practically no one had heard the full story, except for the council and her old team...She needed to update him._

.

The Wanderer had not known about Ilos. His time spent in hiding had severely limited his knowledge about this topic. He needed to be brought up to speed.

So she told him. Everything. About Saren. About Noveria, Vermire. About becoming the first human spectre, About the Raknai queen, about Ilos...And saving the council and defeating Soverign. She told him about her death at the hands of the Collectors, her revival by Cerberus, the gathering of her team and the suicide mission through the Omega 4 relay.

The Wanderer had known about everything after she had died. She just verified his mental records.

He sat there, in his chair, with a growing admiration and respect for the persons who sat in front of him. He then let out a deep hearty laugh.

"Who knew...We are winning. We are finally winning! After eon's of destruction and death, we actually have a chance!" His quick, intelligent eyes almost sparkled. He smiled and his face lit up. His teeth looked white and remarkably human-like.

"Ha! It's not everyday that you see legends such as yourselves. Its been eons since I've talked to others about this." he remarked.

Shepard replied, "And here I thought you were the legend."

He laughs again. "So, has the council begun preparations to fight?"

Shepard looked then at Miranda, and then looked back at him. "Unfortunately, the thick skulled council denies the existence of the Reapers."

"_WHAT_?,"The smile drops from his face. "Tell me that was a joke." He sat with a serious look on his face.

"It wasn't, apparently they think it was geth-ship. A geth-ship that could talk, fly, take over the citadel and cleave ships in half in one shot." Miranda said.

"And that's our next stop." Shepard said. "With the data EDI gathered from the Collector base, hopefully we can finally get it through their heads."

"Yes, I do hope so. This same situation occurred with the Protheans... And you know what happened to them." he said

Shepard shuddered at the thought. "How about during your time?" Miranda asked.

"The only reason the Protheans had actually completed what they did, was because I had warned them, when they found me, years before the Reapers attacked." His voice trailed off. "And the only reason you guys know, is because the Protheans had a warning. During my time, there was no one to tell us of our impending doom. We were completely caught off guard and we stood no chance. Warning the Council is at an utmost importance."

All three of them nodded.

"May I ask you something? I am extremely gratefully that yourself and the Illusive man found me when you did, but how did you know who I was? I'm usually pretty good at covering my tracks." he asked, curiously.

"Well, as you know the Illusive man picked you up after finding you on a human frigate being pirated in the terminus systems. He had found these..." Shepard flipped open a data-pad to her right and showed him the contents. Inside were the Pictures of the artifacts on Ilos, Feros and Therum.

"The inscriptions took care of the rest."

His eyes burned into the images. Looks of recondition crossed his pale face.

"I haven't seen these in years. It seems my past has betrayed me..." He looked upwards and stared straight into Shepard's radiant blue eyes. "..Not that I'm complaining now. So you understand Prothean? Because of the Cipher?" he asked.

"Somewhat." Shepard stated.

"Interesting... alright then, please excuse me, I haven't spoken it in many years and I may be a bit rusty. How about this: Xor-t we-st yuur oplergh, g-hert?"

Miranda was seriously confused, her translator was either malfunctioning or he was speaking gibberish, as she heard a mixture of groans and clicks that weaved together.

Shepard responded ."Black. G-thk."

Miranda had a horrified look on her face.

"Excellent." The Wanderer said. "In case you were wondering, I asked the Commander what colour my suit was, and she responded 'black'. Commander, you said you had made contact with a Prothean beacon, _Before_ you gained the knowledge of the Cipher?"

She nodded.

His eyes narrowed."You have an exceptionally strong mind Jane. Any lesser being's mind would have been crushed under the sheer weight of the images that was transmitted. I've seen it. The images were not gentle. And you said the beacon broke right after being used by you?

She noticed he had used her first name. She nodded again.

"The human mind automatically subconsciously tries to block out a foreign thoughts, or brain waves. That is why Liara found it extremely physically exerting to try and decipher the vision for you. And why the tower exploded after you used it, as it had overloaded... And why the beacon you used in Saren's base in Vermire _after_ you gained the Cipher hadn't."

He opened his mouth to begin saying something else, but he stopped himself.

Shepard noticed this. "Wait, what were you going to say?"

He continued. "I was going to ask you if you've ever used a Prothean data-bank before...They generally have an appearance of a large metallic hovering sphere, but you typically need a key-stone to access the data, and they are quite hard to come by these days..."

"Actually I have. On Eletania, there was one..."

The word Eletania struck a cord in his mind, that was where he was given the vision about the humans...

"And not long before, the Asari Consort on the Citadel had given me a Prothean trinket." Shepard said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "And it was the same shape of the slot in the sphere, so I placed it in the slot and..." She stopped talking. "Boom."

_Ha! What were the chances that the "key-stone" I dropped on a random world would eventually fall into the hands of Commander Shepard? _he exclaimed joyously in his head.

The Wanderer was wearing now smiling ear to ear. "Do you know what you saw, Jane?" He asked softly.

She replied "Well, I sorta do, but I'm not sure..."

"What you saw" finished the Wanderer "Was nothing less, than the very first humble beginnings of humanity." He paused and leaned back so the information could sink in.

He continued talking. "Ladies, I was given a last-resort plan from the Protheans, in case their plan on Ilos didn't work, but it did, so our chances are that much higher. The Protheans had been studying the Human race at the point in time where they were living in caves and hunting Mammoths to survive. My task was this: go to Eletania, see the vision, go to Earth and watch the Human race grow and evolve. Why the Protheans chose Humans at that time, is beyond me but, your race turned out to be quite the species. Your race were chosen to become the "next Reaper" out of all the other species in current existence and you have proved your courage and determination to the Galaxy in such a short amount of time. And here we are. What are the chances a HUMAN, one of the youngest species in the galaxy, would step up and, save everyone twice thus far, in fight against the Reapers? You, Shepard are the best Humanity has to offer. And I don't just think that, I _know_ that. You and your team should be very proud of yourselves."

Commander Jane Shepard almost blushed, but she did nothing to stop a satisfied grin from spreading to her face. She had waiting so damn long to hear those words.

"So, that Prothean data-disk on Mars," Miranda asked, "that advanced humanity's tech hundreds of years into the future..."

"Who do you think put it there?" The Wanderer answered. He smiled a secret smile. "Did you think it was a coincidence, that the information for interstellar space flight was out of reach and protected from humans on earth, until they developed, a however primitive, space flight of their own?" The Wanderer said.

Miranda's eyes were as big as dinner plates. "You did..."

"Correct." He said. "Unfortunately, upon arriving on Earth, I had an... accident... and was forced to live there until humanity developed space flight. Which took a _very long_ time. Keep in mind, your ancestors were living in caves at the time."

"So what did you do for all those thousands of years?" It was Shepard who asked.

"I waited in the shadows, and I occasionally lived among them, because as you can see, we look nearly identical. However, I had to constantly be on the move, as the life-expectancy of someone at that time, was quite short, and I don't visibly age. I tried to keep a low profile as much as possible, but there are some things that time have turned into history." He shook his head in shame.

"Like what?" Asked Shepard.

He sighed. "A few well known ones would the legend of king Arthur or even the black knight."

Both Miranda and Jane nodded.

"Well, not all legends are myth."

Both of them looked stunned.

"Most of the stories have been disfigured after centuries of oral tradition, but the main points are the same. Although most of the persons involved had different names..." He shook his head. "But back to more pressing matters. I was wondering if you could fill me in about..."

He stopped talking mid-question and glanced to the corner of the room. His eyes lit up, then glared.

One moment he was sitting in his chair, and the next moment he was across the room, clutching something. A yelp could be heard.

His hands appeared to be holding something but it could not be seen. Almost as if the object were invisible...

Suddenly a very frightened Kasumi Goto appeared in the Wanderer's grasp, hands held behind her back.

Shepard face-palmed. Kasumi was known for cloaking and appearing at the most random of times.

"It's alright, her name Kasumi Goto, she's part of my team." Shepard said.

He immediately lets go. "Apologies Miss. Goto. One can never be too careful."

"Who are you and how did you..." he voice trailed off as soon as she turned around to see her assailant. His green eyes shone. "….see me..." She was fixed on his eyes as if in a trance.

"Well Kasumi, if you pick your jaw off the floor, I'm sure our friend here can tell you." Shepard joked. Interestingly enough upon their first face-to-face encounter that was her first reaction too. And the look in Miranda's eyes at that time confirmed the same.

"I assumed that with a cloak enabled you were on board uninvited. I have been called.. the Wanderer. It is a pleasure to meet you." He help out his hand in the traditional human greeting.

She took it. She noted deep powerful voice and a firm grip.

"Kasumi, what are you doing back on the ship so soon?" Shepard asked.

"I was going to ask you the same question." she replied.

"Illusive man asked us to check this guy out, and looks we've added a new member to our team." Jane said turning to him. The Wanderer responded with polite nod.

"Really? Good to see that he's staying. Mind if I stay? I need to "check him out" as well..." Kasumi says eying him. Flirt apparent in her voice..

Shepard lifts an eyebrow. It seemed every female he met today was under his could lost in those eyes...

She turns to Miranda expecting the normally cold and distant woman, and finds her resting her head on palm of her hand staring at him dreamily.

"Uh, Miranda?" She says snapping her fingers in front of her face.

"What, oh, yes. I apologize. I was lost in thought." she said.

"Sure..."


	11. Chapter 11 : Science

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_"Sure..."_

Just then, Mordin steps into the briefing room. "Hello. I am back. Picked up supplies for lab and tests for Collector tissue. Will be there if you need me." Just as he leaves he sees The Wanderer in the room.

"Ah, on-board meeting and casual conversation indicate greeting, possible recruit? Design of armor and weapon suggests antique or extreme age. Special forces? No. Biotic?, no, suit too rigid. Mercenary? No, lack of insignia or any major distinguishing artwork. Must work alone. Appearance suggests human. Numerous bullet holes and cracks indicate many battles. Suit and weapon reinforced heavily with use of cybernetic enhancements..." He stops talking and stares at him for a few more seconds, his Salarian mind stumped.

"Very good. Mordin Solus I presume?" The Wanderer asks.

"Yes. Pleased to meet you, but who are you?" he Mordin responds.

"EDI, bring Mordin up to speed on whats happened here." Shepard asks.

"Of course, Commander" EDI sends the entire recorded conversation to Mordin's omni-tool.

Playing the video at two times the speed. (Salarians think twice as fast as humans) He is quickly brought up to speed as he memorizes the conversation between Shepard and the "Wanderer". He looks up from his omni-tool, astonished.

"Incredible! Origin pre-dated to before Prothean. Not human. Not mercenary. Suit and weapon of extreme age. You are here to help." His eyes light up. "Must take a DNA sample!, Imagine the possibilities!, great potential stored in a new species. Must take tests and confirm suspicions." he said. "Do you mind?"

Shepard looked at the Wanderer. Shepard generally distanced herself from Mordin's experiments, but this time it piqued her interest. In fact everyone in the room had their interests piqued.

"Do you?" she asked.

"No. Not at all." The Wanderer said.

"To the lab!" Mordin exclaimed triumphantly. He had indeed struck a goldmine of information. Everyone shuffled out of the briefing room and down to Mordins lab, which was right next door.

As soon as they arrived, huddled in the lab, Shepard spoke:" Mordin, do you mind getting as much medical info as you can as he has no medical records."

"Of course". He starts up the various machines and equipment around his work station. He instructs the Wanderer to remove his armor.

"Before we begin. Do I have your word that none of the results of your tests will travel travel outside the Normandy?" He said, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Of course. I swear on my life as a Scientist Salarian."

The Wanderer gives a nod and begins the lengthy process of removing his suit. It was mainly composed of an outer layer of hard-suit or armor was connected by an underlying flexible material that stuck close to his body. Upon laying the plates of his suit on the table, the audience could see the soft green glow being emitted by circuits interwoven with the hard-suit begin to fade, as if inactive. These "circuits" were etched into each plates surface and seemed to be interwoven in the fabric beneath the armor.

Next he grabbed the underlying flex material in an attempt to remove it. And all the ladies in the room held their breath.

The warrior looked up to find all present members of Shepard's squad eying him up. He sighed and removed the last layer of the suit. And they found out he was topless under the armor he was wearing.

All their eyes were fixed on his chest. Save for Mordin who was busy looking at his computer screen in an effort to scan the armor.

"_Wow_" was all that Kasumi could whisper.

He was truly a sight to behold. His body was completely rippled with hard muscle, and every movement he made, caused the women in the room to stare. Proportions were all right and among his heavily built body and massive shoulders were numerous scars consisting of bullet holes and grazes, blade slices. The most intriguing of all were a set of three parallel lines that ran down his side. _Claw marks?_ He also had the faint remnants of a bizzare looking tattoo trailing from his thigh all the way to his neck, then down his right arm. Shepard felt her cheeks warm. She glanced at Miranda and found the normally pale woman to had gained a rose color to her face.

EDI interrupted their ogling. "Commander, Garrus and Tali have just boarded the Normandy."

"Okay, thanks EDI" Shepard said quickly, without lifting her gaze from the man a few feet away from her. She could hear Garrus talking to Tali as they neared the lab.

"I'm telling you Tali, this guy we met took on the entire Eclipse group, and actually used a sword..." Garrus said, his voice getting louder as he neared the lab.

"Garrus, how many times do I have to tell you, there's no way anyone..." The sound of something hitting the floor caused everyone to turn their head in the direction of the sound.

There, in front of them was Tali and Garrus standing in the doorway.

Upon reaching the doorway, Tali had dropped whatever she was holding and stood looking at the fit, half-nude man rippled in muscle. She joined the three other female members who stood there admiring him.

Being the gentleman that he was, the Wanderer walked over, picked up the fallen food supplies and handed then back to Tali.

"You must be Tali'Zorah vas Normandy."

"Ye..s.." She managed to stutter.

"Pleasure to meet you" He said with a wink, just for fun.

If anyone could see under her mask, her cheeks were bright red.

"Wanderer, please allow me to take a blood and skin sample for DNA" Mordin said.

The Wanderer held out his arm and the Salarian doctor extracted a blood sample using a huge syringe. Immediately upon the syringe exiting his arm, the ruby red blood turned a light shade of green.

"Is.. that supposed to happen?" Shepard asked.

"Yes. Data from the blood sample indicate his blood is iron based like humans but uses a mixture of chlorocruorin solution for 25% per 1L of blood. Blood becomes a reversible oxygen carrier. Chlorocruorin was likely substituted artificially. The pigment becomes green when dilute, but vivid red at higher concentrations.

The Wanderer stepped into the array of scanners to the right of his desk. Tera-bytes of data began streaming down the Salarians screen. His eyes darted to and fro as the information compiled itself.

"Biological appearance indicates specimen is just over thirty years in human age standards. Impossible to determine true age from current sample size. DNA does not resemble human. Levo DNA, but genetic modification allows acceptance of levo and dextro substances for digestion. Biological autonomy similar. Fully developed and heavily dense muscles indicate top physical condition. Extensive internal biological and cybernetic enhancements. Variety of neural implants in brain. Able to integrate seamlessly with A.I. and other legacy information sources. Naturally occurring carbon fiber reinforced bones. Joints have been strengthened with a variety of naturally occurring substances..." Mordin stopped talking for a second.

"Strange. Subject has immense magnetolectric radiation field being emitted from his body. Not possible. But there. Will investigate further." Mordin's hands danced across the keyboard.

"Interesting. Field being emitted biologically and internally, not with help from implants."

"Radiation?, we could get cancer from standing next to him?" Tali exclaimed.

"No, no, no, no. Subject is emitting magnetolectric radiation. Not electromagnetic, or nuclear/x-ray. Polar opposite of electromagnetic radiation." He pauses.

Before any of them could ask him what he was talking about he wheels another machine next to the Wanderer. It was a machine to detect changes to biological tissue from different kinds of radiation.

"Wanderer, please rest hand on sample 1 tray." He does. Next Mordin puts a fauna specimen on sample 2 tray.

The machine starts up and Mordin's eyes zip across the screen as it gathers data. His eyes light up.

"Fascinating. High intensity magnetolectric field stops the cellular aging process and actually induces a NEGATIVE entropy onto a living cells." he says with excitement.

"Mordin please say what you just said in normal people's terms please." Shepard said.

It was EDI that spoke next. "What Mordin is saying, is that the field the Wanderer is emitting stops the forces of aging and actually heals any living thing within it range. It would not give you cancerous radiation, instead it would actually be beneficial to be in proximity to him. In theory it would increase your life span and your cells would be able to repair themselves more efficiently."

"Subject would be able to heal subtly automatically." Mordin said. "In order to reproduce this effect one would need magnetic fields of 13, 000 Gauss, or a magnet 26, 000 times more powerful than planet Earth's magnetic field. However subject is emitting this field is local and biological." The Salarian doctor held up a ferromagnetic item to the Wanderer's skin. It was not attracted. "Interesting. Will investigate later." He walks over to the Wanderers armor, picks it up and places them under another scanner.

"Suit is composed of lightweight ultra-strong metals and interweaves with sensors to be transmitted directly to brain through implants. Suit powered wirelessly from contact with subjects flex under-suit using magnetolectric field. Interesting." Mordin is streaming out data as fast as his mouth could pump out the words. "Suit in dire need of repair. Falling apart." Just then Jacob stepped into the room, bewildered to find every female on the team staring at this random stranger.

_Woah, hes jacked. _He thinks_. His biceps rival even mine..._

The Wanderer spoke: "Unfortunately because of this ability I am unable to carry or use kinetic shield barriers. They malfunction when too close. This hard-suit and my training have been the only protection I have ever had."

"Could you tell us more about that? When we were at the rendezvous point, I swear I saw you move faster than my eyes could keep up. How doesn't your heart burst?" Shepard asked.

"My body can move at great speeds through a variety of reasons. A lifetime of training mostly. Training has also taught me to control my heart rate so it is ready when I need it to speed up. However it puts a tremendous strain on the joints and can overheat the muscles. Implants control some of the temperature, and my healing ability ensures my joints don't burn out. But even then, I can use it only sparingly. It is fine in short bursts. That kind of power can be dangerous if I am not careful. I can move faster without my suit, but that leaves me open to damage. My suit is powered to ensure it moves fast, and the circuits you see are the result of integration with my senses." he stated.

"Integration with your senses?" Shepard asks.

"You have neural implants since being rebuilt by Cerberus, am I correct?" He asks.

"Yes."

"Miss Lawson, when Jane Shepard was revitalized, did Cerberus include an certain implant..a..L2d Nerual opt. Channel 5.0?" He asked.

"Yes they did" She answered, interested as how he knew about such a implant. It was still in beta, and it allowed the users brain connect with some outsides sources.

"Excellent. Here, Commander, put on my helmet." he held it out to her.

She hesitantly took the helmet, unsure what she was expecting.

She slowly put the jet black helmet over her head. It was heavy. Much heavier than hers. With her head fully held within the helmet, the Wanderer pushed a button on the side of the faceplate.

"My suit has been interfaced with omni-sensors. They work with just about anything. Here, it should be syncing with your vision now. You should see something in a few seconds." He said.

All Shepard could presently see was pitch black in his helmet. A dot appeared in the centre of her vision, and slowly got brighter, and brighter then... light exploded all around her. She could see.

_WAIT_...She waved her hand in front of the completely polarized face plate. She could see it, as if the helmet were not even there!

"Damn this is cool!" She yelled, with no sense of professionalism or restraint whatsoever.

She looks around the room. She could see everything as if she was wearing no helmet. Perfect vision. No obstructions.

Suddenly a virtual H.U.D. booted up and the screen was covered in text and symbols she couldn't understand. It vanished and she was left with the previous screen with an added position orientation, zoom, thermal imaging and every module she could think of.

The Wanderer carefully removed the helmet from her head.

"Like it? I can give you the full hardware specs if you want" he asked. "Some people prefer using their eyes."

Shepard nodded her head like a bobble-head.

Mordin interrupted. "Please can we continue the examination?"

Everyone sat down.

Mordin attempts to lift up the Wanderer's sword but is surprised my its immense weight. The warrior steps over and helps the Salarian lift the sword into the scanner.

"Thank you. Sword is especially unique. Weighs around 50 lbs." he starts. "Composed of unknown metal. Rust-proof. Acid-proof. Extreme hot-cold-proof. Extremely durable. Small scratches and dents made from repeated usage. Not very sharp, but weight and a little momentum could crush or slice through even a krogan." He continues. "Same markings as ones on suit. Possible integration with suit. Seems to hold internal cybernetic enhancements..."

Garrus was skeptical. "Wait, 50 lbs for a chunk of metal? I mean I've seen some two-handed antique swords from Earth and Palaven, and they were MAX 10 lbs."

The Wanderer looked serious for a moment as he contemplated something.

"Would you like to test it out?" The Wanderer asks.

"Sure" Both Garrus and Jacob said simultaneously. They both look at each other, as if surprised to see the other person standing there.

"Me first" They say in unison.

"If anyone's going for a test run, its gonna be me." Shepard said with a smirk on her face. "And yes, that's an order."

The Wanderer picks up his weapon effortlessly. "Where can we swing this around?" He asks.

"Shuttle bay should be an alright place. And kasumi, bring him a shirt, he's distracting." She says exiting the room.

Kasumi gives a giggle and disappears.


	12. Chapter 12 : Coincidence

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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Minutes later the Wanderer and some of the present crew went down to the Shuttle bay. The newest addition to the crew silently observed the layout of the ship, his sharp eyes absorbing every nook and cranny of every space. His steps were virtually silent, and his large muscular body moved with a startling, lumbering, fluidly.

To their surprise, they find Grunt cleaning his shotgun in the far corner.

"Shepard" The krogan says, as she walks past him.

"Grunt, did you even leave the ship?", she asked. "I gave everyone a days vacation."

"Arg! Where am I going to go? I want a good fight, and we seem to be out of enemies!" he said.

She stops. "You want a good fight? We barely escaped with out lives a few days ago, and you want more?"

The Wanderer stopped also to face the adolescent krogan.

"No rest for the weary, eh?"

Grunt looks over at the man standing to the right of him.

"Who's the new guy?" He asks with a look of suspicion.

"He's the Wanderer, he's new to the team." She says, turning to him. "Wanderer, this is Urdnot Grunt. He's a tank bred Krogan, so try not to piss him off." She utters with a smirk on her face.

"It's good to meet you" The warrior says extending him large hand.

Grunt looks down at the Wanderer's hand but doesn't move. The warrior's green eyes narrow and he quickly withdraws his hand. In its stead, the humanoid brings his arms to his side and grits his teeth.

Grunt's face momentarily shows a look of surprise, and also does the same.

_What?_ She thinks.

They both lean forward at the same time and knock heads with a loud bang.

Grunt bursts out in laughter. "HAHAHAHA I like the new guy!" He says slapping the Wanderers back hard.

"Careful Grunt, don't put him in the med bay before we start a mission." Shepard tells him.

The Wanderer shook his head as he rubbed his back. "I'm fine, although that did sting a little bit."

Another large sound echos in the shuttle bay. Seconds later a crate busts out of the air and almost hits them. Shepard and the warrior glance at each other. _Garrus and Jacob were trying out the the sword..._

They both run to the back of the cargo hold, where they are surprised to find Garrus wielding the sword.

Apparently Jacob had set up some metal crates up in the corner and they were talking turns hacking them to bits. From the looks of the shredded remains of a few boxes, it appeared it would slice through solid steel like butter.

Garrus spots them and beckons them over.

"Hey Shepard, take a look at this. This heavy chunk of metal I hold in my hands seems to defy the laws of physics. You can even use it to play that funny human sport. What's it called, golt? ..." he says, raising the sword above his head.

"Garrus, it's GOLF" Shepard said, correcting him.

"Five!" he yells, paying no attention to Shepard's words he brings it down HARD, on the side of one of the crates. The sound was deafening. Instead of slicing through, the impact sent the crate, literally, flying to the other end of the hold.

"Garrus, its FORE." Shepard face-palms.

.

Grunt was back to cleaning his rifle, when another large booming sound was heard. Looking up, he witnesses a metric ton of steel fly through the air toward him. He shuts his eyes, not believing what he is seeing. As soon as his eyes open again, he gets plowed over, and the impact causes him to fly back toward the elevator.

Just then, as Grunts' now unconscious body is tossed toward the elevator door, it opens, revealing a very surprised Thane krios. Thane's pupils dilate as he looks at the giant mound of Krogan looming toward him. Years of trained reflexes causes him to quickly sidestep, sparing him from being crushed by a ton of solid muscle. Another boom. He looks down at the unconscious Krogan at his feet, and quickly darts out from the elevator making sure to keep an eye out for any other flying Krogan.

.

"Nice" Jacob bumbs fists with Garrus. "My turn..."

Just as Jacob takes the sword from Garrus, Thane Krios appears.

"May I ask what is happening? Grunt is lying unconscious in the elevator." He asks.

Garrus looks at Jacob. Nothing is said for several seconds. "Damn, Grunts going to be less than happy when he wakes up...but in the meantime..." he yells giving Jacob an epic high-five.

Shepard rolls her eyes and walks over to thane.

"Wanderer, this is thane Krios, best assassin in the business. Thane, this is the Wanderer..." She stops, unsure how to proceed with her introduction.

The Wanderer finishes it for her. "...A friend who's here to help." he says, reaching his hand out.

Thane shakes his hand. "Nice to meet you Wanderer. EDI brought me up to speed when I arrived. Your help is much appreciated."

Just as his hand leaves the Wanderer, a look of recondition crosses his face, his eyes glaze over and he sinks into a memory.

"The vent is full of dust, I rub my eyes. The air is filled with it. I suppress the urge to cough. I look down my scope. The target arrives. He gets out and walks into the factory. I start to follow when I hear the footsteps of another. I see nothing."

Thane's eyes go back to normal as he recedes from his memory. "Sorry about that, something I saw must have triggered that."

He looks over at Jacob who is holding the Wanderers sword...Another memory hits him.

His eyes go black again.

"It is dark, I am finished. The target has been eliminated. I set the bomb to go off in 60 seconds. I begin to leave but hear footsteps. I hide. The footsteps get louder. I see a man in a black suit with a sword on his back, rushing, looking through each room. He sees the targets body, but does not react. He seems to be looking for something. He enters one room and I hear a faint cry. The bomb is at 30 seconds. I keep my distance, but watch. The man emerges holding an Asari in his arms. I curse myself for endangering others. He spots the bomb on the wall. It is at 10 seconds. He dissipates into a blur and feel a rush of air past me. I run out. The bomb goes off. The stranger is nowhere to be seen. I go home."

Thane returns to reality. The Wanderer looks at him. He stares back.

After some time the warrior speaks.

"So YOU were the one that killed Tajim. And you were the one that set that bomb to go off..."

"Yes, I believe you were the one that followed him also and found that asari..." the assassin replied.

Shepard stepped forward very much confused. "Can someone please tell me what just happened?"

The Wanderer sat down on a nearby crate and motioned them to do the same.

"A long time ago I saved an young asari from certain death. Her parents were both killed and she had no where to go. I happened to be present and took care of her... from a distance. I would send her money and even got her a job without ever knowing who I was."

"Everything was fine until one day some mercenaries kidnapped her and sold her into the slave trade. So, I tracked her down and found out where she was being held. There I was surprised to find her in the complex alone, with the mercenary dead, and a bomb with 10 seconds left on the timer..." He stopped and looked at Thane.

"So It was you, who killed Tajim?" he asked.

"Yes, it seems it was a unforeseen coincidence. Tajim was one of the mercenaries who were behind my wifes murder, and I hunted him down. I was blinded by my emotions and didn't check to see if there were others in the house. With 30 seconds left on the timer I watched you enter, find the girl and leave in a swirl of wind..." Thane trailed on.

"So what happened after?" Shepard asked with immense curiosity.

"Well, after her rescue she recognized me. They two of us became close and we traveled together..."

"How close?" Shepard asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Quite close. She was the only person in this galaxy that knew my secret at the time." he said, continuing..

"We traveled together, I taught her to use her biotics and she actually worked as a commando mercenary for a while...And then one day I decided it was time that she lived her own life and I left her on a Omega and left. I have not seen or heard from her since." He wore a sad face.

Shepard was momentarily touched by his story.

"Just out of curiosity what was her name?" she asked

He thought for a moment.

"I do believe her name was Aria..."


	13. Chapter 13 : Back In Action

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_"I do believe her name was Aria..."_

Shepard's eyes shot open with a utterly surprised look on her face.

"No way..." She stuttered.

"Is something the matter?" The Wanderer asked.

Shepard rested her head in her hand.

"Was her full name by any chance, Aria T'loak?" she asked with an almost exasperated voice.

This time it was the Wanderer who had a look of surprise on his face.

"Yes" he answered sitting up straight. "How?..."

"Cause she RUNS Omega, I mean, she practically IS Omega" She says, brushing a hair from her face. She had helped Liara t'soni find my body and game me information where to find Garrus and Mordin."

A smile starts and spreads to the rest of the Warriors face.

"It appears I have once again woven myself into your lives, without either of us knowing." He turns to Shepard. "Do you think you can drop me off at Omega if we ever have the chance?"

"I'm sure it can be arranged. The ship should be finished repairs in a day or two, and I'm sure she would welcome the visit.." Shepard said as she got up.

"She probably hates me, actually. Several hundred years ago, I left her on Omega against her will...And never returned." He told her, also getting up from the crate. "What do you think will happen?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Said Shepard. "Either she'll greet you with open arms, or toss your sorry ass out the nearest airlock." She gave a chuckle. "Or crush you with her biotics..."

"That last one won't work on me though..." he said with a smirk.

"Yeah, what happened during that fight, I thought those biotics hit their target..." She asked.

"That field.." He began, waving his hand in front of him, "Is the reason I don't get touched by it. Biotics use electromagnetic impulses from their nervous system, in conjunction with eezo nodes in their bodies to use biotics. The field I emit is the polar opposite of it, so it cancels it out. I has come in handy on more than one occasion." He walks with them over to where Jacob was swinging his sword. He continues his talk.

"After witnessing the Galaxy "clean its slate" on more than one occasion, I noticed that every "cycle" there seems to a unique ability that becomes shared by most species near the end of their time, depending on how they evolved." he says with a thoughtful look on his face.

"During my time, we were mainly defensive and peaceful. As a result we developed this "field" that stopped the aging processes, let us heal faster and gave us speed. Our ability gave us time."

"During the Prothean time they expanded across the galaxy rapidly and had an innate ability with engineering, thus expanding their territory even more and even faster. As you can see, they had cracked the reapers own engineering, and thus they created their own mass relay."

"This time around, there are a multitude of different species all competing for the same space and power and many of them are aggressive, thus giving birth to an new era of attack, using biotics."

"You know, you should right this stuff down and make a book or something" Shepard said standing next to him.

He turned to face her. "I don't have to, my guess is that EDI is recording this conversation."

"That is correct." EDI's voice was heard through the speakers.

"Jacob, mind if the Commander takes a swing at it?" The Wanderer asked.

Jacob hands Shepard the sword.

_Woah, this is heavy,_ she thinks

Garrus trolleys a few test dummies into their area. They had occasionally used them for target practice, and were fitted with solid metals and some other ultra-dense materials to absorb the shots.

The commander took the sword with both hands, raised it high above her head and made it come down HARD on the dummies head.

The spherical "skull" deflected the swords impact with the head, but found its mark on the dummies shoulder, and was torn clean off. Shepard, still using the downwards momentum spun, nearly taking the Wanderers head clean off, and slashed the dummies midsection. Everything above the waist just fell off.

Everyone started clapping, and Shepard bowed.

She handed the sword back to the Wanderer. "Match that" she said, under a smirk. Garrus wheeled another dummy to the area.

"I thought you saw enough of my combat fitness on Illium?" he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Jacob and Thane didn't. Just take a swing." She pushed.

"Fine.." he replied.

He takes his usual stance in front of the dummy, and with one fluid movement he send the midsection into the air, and further slices THAT part down the middle. Mechanical parts are falling like rain.

Jokers voice sounds over the comm. "You know EDI, if you ever start bothering us, we'll just ask our Wanderer friend here to pay a visit to the A.I. core and do what he just did."

Joker must have been watching from the vid cameras on the Bridge.

Nothing was said from EDI.

"Um, EDI, that was a joke" Joker's voice still over the comm.

"Of course" said EDI.

A strange awkward silence ensured.

"Anyways Commander, we're finished repairs and the rest of the crew is back on board. We are once again ready to single handedly save the galaxy again." Jokers voice sounded over the com. "Shepard could you come up here? There seems to be an issue with the repair fees..."

Crap. She forgot that their funds were running dry.

"I really want to talk more, but theres some stuff I gotta take care of, you know with the repairs and all. The rest of the crew will be back and you can go and get to know them. I wasn't expecting an extra crew member, so I'm not really sure where to put you..."

"Do not worry about me, I'm sure these sleeping pods will be just fine. I plan to work on some upgrades for the ship and the engine if that's fine with you..." He said.

"Oh, and one more thing, before I forget." He reaches into a pouch on his suit and takes out a credit chit.

"Take this." He says handing it to Shepard. "It should be enough to cover repairs for the ship, your suit and any upgrades I may have in the near future."

She stares at the chit in his hand.

"Go on, take it" He says, holding it out to her.

"You're serious?" She hesitates. "How much is on there?, I can't possibly take your money..." She stares with wide eyes.

"Yes, you can, and you will. I've been saving up for many, many years and I have no need of credits except for food. Your crew and your ship definitely need it. And don't ever even think of paying me back. I wont take it. There is no fine print and no dotted line here. We need all the help we can get when we face the Reapers and here's how we can start. I know your too stubborn to accept help, but you need take this or I will personally wire it to your account." he tells her as he holds it out to her.

"Ok...thanks." she says as she hesitantly taking the chit.

"If it makes you feel better, think of it as a gift for services rendered." He says. "Now, could you point me in the direction of the nearest washroom?"


	14. Chapter 14 : Talks

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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Shepard immediately goes up to the CIC.

Joker greets her as she nears him. "Commander, we are seriously in need of some creds."

"Don't worry about that Joker, I got 'em."

"Really cause the last time I checked, we were practically dry. I hate to say this but "the great Commander Shepard"..." He said, waving his hands in the air. "Might have defeated the collectors and a Reaper, but her bills, are one enemy that keeps coming back from the dead." He said with worry in his voice.

Shepard scans the credit chit with her Omni-tool.

_Credits Deposited._

She checks her balance.

_Account Balance : $ 10,340,200_

Her jaw hits the floor for the umpteenth time that day.

She gives him a wink. "You see joker, everythings fine."

He looks at the balance. "How the hell?" he yells, "Did you get Legion to hack into a bank?"

.

=-=-=-=-= POV : Wanderer =-=-=-=-=-=-

He wanted to get to know the crew so started with the top of the ship and worked his way down.

First stop was Jacob.

When he entered the armory he found the human cleaning a rifle. Jacob saw heard him enter and looked up.

"Hey, Mr.W!, what do you think of the Normandy?" He asked putting the rifle down on the table.

"It's a incredible starship." he responded as he leaned against the wall. "I was wondering if you could tell me a bit about yourself, I'm trying to get to know the crew."

Jacob told him how he was a former Alliance soldier with biotic abilities. He joined Cerberus after viewing the bureaucracy of the Alliance as hampering the ability of humanity to survive. He also told him about how Shepard helped him find his father after he had located a distress signal. And how his father had put himself before the needs of the crew, and how the crew had been reduced to animistic beings.

"You know that stunt with your sword was pretty bad-ass, Is there any chance, I could get one of those...?" Jacob asked.

"If I could make another one, I would, but I really have no idea how. This sword was passed on to me by another, it's older than I am." The warrior said. "Anyways, I'm going to meet the rest of the team, see you later."

Jacob nodded, and the wanderer proceed to talk to Mordin, but the doors were locked. He was probably busy toying around with his DNA. Kinda creepy if you think about it.

He enters the elevator and goes down a floor. He sees the blue hologram projector and remembers about EDI.

"EDI?" he asks to the holo.

"Can I be of assistance?" She asks, her blue hologram flickering on the display.

"Tell me a bit about yourself." He asks.

EDI was momentarily taken aback by his question. He regarded her a crew member instead of a machine.

"My name stands for Enhanced Defence Intelligence, and I am the AI of the Normandy SR-2. I am a Quantum Blue Box type AI that functions as the electronic warfare defence for the Normandy." She replies. "I was in part designed by technology gained from Sovereign's remains and thus, at least partially, based on Reaper technology itself.

The Wanderer stopped in his tracks. "That's quite amazing. Do you have access to "Anti-Reaper Algorithms"?" He asked, standing in the middle of the mess hall.

"Yes I do." She answered.

"Well I have some data from the Reapers as well... and with your help I think we can upgrade upgrade your info. Where is your Quantum Blue Box?" He asked. "I have implants that allow me to connect to A.I."

"Really?, is that possible?"

"Very possible" he said, "after all two minds are better than one."

"My storage unit is located behind the med-bay" The A.I. asked. " Dr. Chakwas seems to be out for the moment.

He steps into the A.I. core and is startled to find a Geth. Standing but seemingly inactive, he approaches the machine.

"Hello?" He asks.

The Optical sensor on the Geth blinks for a moment.

"Excuse me. I am currently engaged in a video game on the extranet. Please wait." Legion said with a mechanical voice.

A few seconds later his "eye" glows bright.

"Hello. How may I be of assistance?" He asked.

"Hi, I new aboard and I wanted to get to know Shepard's crew. You must be Legion." He said with a nod, "I didn't know Geth traveled outside the Perseus Veil."

Legion regarded the being in front of him. He started building a consensus on whether or not to give this unknown stranger any information. It ran a appearance scan and an archive got flagged. The Geth collective immediately recognized him and allowed him access.

Legion responded. "I am a unique Geth mobile platform, designed to operate outside the Perseus Veil and interact with organics directly. To that purpose, I house 1,183 geth programs, as opposed to the one hundred in other platforms, enabling me to operate independently and speak." He looked at the Wanderers face. "Records show that we have exchanged data before."

"Really?, when?"

"103 years, 3 months, 23 hours ago in the Terminus systems. We appreciated the exchange. You gave us information to improve our networks and upgrades for our ships. We thank you" Legion said, its "eyebrows" moving upward. "You have not aged in the time that has passed. How?"

"EDI?" asked the Wanderer

"Yes, Wanderer?"

"Please send Legion the video."

"Of course." The A.I. hologram blinked.

Legion's "eye" dimmed again, but took a full minute to grow to full brightness.

"It will take time to process this information. We appreciate the exchange. We also want to ask you if you would allow us to receive any other similar information in the future." The machine said.

"Sure. By the way what game were you playing? I'm an avid player myself." The warrior asked.

"This platform was engaged in Galaxy of Fantasy and N7 Code of Honor: Medal of Duty. Our Gamer profile is Infiltrait0rN7." it said.

The Wanderers eyes went wide. "Your Infiltrait0rN7?"

He and Infiltrait0rN7 were at the top of the leader-boards and had been competing for first place for quite a while now.

"I'm AtomicDragon13!"

Legion took less than a second to bring up data. He lowered his "eyebrows".

"We demand a rematch from out last virtual encounter." it said.

The Wanderer chuckled. "In due time, I want to enjoy the top of the leader-boards for a while..."

If Legion could glare, then he would have.

"We will wait. And we will win."

"We'll see about that. Anyways nice to finally meet you. I understand now why you seem to have better reaction time than possible for a normal organic." he said. "See you later. EDI.., i'l be back."

He was going to stop by the forward batteries to meet Garrus, when he noticed he was sitting in the mess hall and appeared to be eating something.

"Garrus, mind if I join you?"

He looked up, surprised to find the Wanderer there.

"Uh, yeah sure." he said turning back to whatever he was eating.

The Wanderer sat down and looked at what he was eating. It appeared to be a blue gelatinous semi-solid. Sorta like the human food, Jello-O.

"Is that any good?" He asked.

"Not really, but that's pretty much the main staple for us dextro-amino acid creatures." Garrus said.

The Wanderer said nothing for a while.

"Have you ever had a hamburger?" The warrior asked.

Garrus shot him a confused look. "No, but Joker talks about it all the time. I'm guessing it's good?"

"Very. Well that is not the reason I came down here. Mind telling me a little about yourself?"

Garrus told him about his his life on Palavan, then in C-Sec before he met Shepard. After the Normandy was destroyed, Garrus Vakarian went on to pursue a life of vigilantism. He made his way to the Omega space station, which is riddled with criminal syndicates, and earned the alias Archangel after sabotaging various criminal organisations. When Shepard found him, he was found holed up in his base as three crime syndicates send waves of mercenaries to kill him. During the final onslaught he was injured by an attack from a gunship, leaving him with facial scars and damaged armor.

By the time he finished talking, he was finished eating.

"What kind of firepower does the Normandy have?" He asked after Garrus finished talking.

"Come take a look."

Moments later they were in the forward batteries looking at the main cannons.

"These.." Garrus said, patting one of barrels, "are my babies."

"Think we could have a test run?" The Wanderer asked with a grin on his face.

Garrus gave the turian equivalent of a grin.

"Well normally not, but we DO have to make sure their running smoothly and I'm sure Shepard wouldn't mind..."

Moments later the twin Thanix Cannons were engaged and primed to fire. There was a maelstrom of noise and wind forming in the small room and they found it was hard to listen to each other.

"THE THANIX MAGNETIC-HYDRODYNAMIC CANNONS, IS A TURIAN-DEVELOPED, MINIATURIZED VERSION OF THE WEAPON SOVEREIGN USED DURING IT'S ATTACK ON THE CITADEL. IT USES AN ELECTROMAGNETIC FIELD TO SHAPE AND ACCELERATE A STREAM OF SUPERHEATED MOLTEN METAL TO RELATIVISTIC VELOCITIES, WHICH IMPACTS ITS TARGET AND..." Garrus was trying hard to yell above the increasing level of noise.

"KICKS ITS ASS?" answered the Wanderer.

"YEAH, SOMETHING LIKE THAT. WATCH THIS!" With that said, Garrus punched the test fire button, and the Cannons glowed bright blue. It magnetic accelerators activated and twin-streaks of blue beams merged into one as superheated metal raced outward from the Normandy into empty space.


	15. Chapter 15 : Tomb I

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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"Commander, EDI picked up some weird signals from from a nearby planet. You want to check it out before we head for the Citadel?". Jokers voice had lost its sarcastic edge and was sounding serious again.

"Sure. Prepare to drop in 30 min." Shepard turned and began walking to the elevator. She activated the intercom. "Wanderer and Garrus..."

.

"...suit up and meet me in the shuttle bay in twenty-five.", was said over the ships speakers.

The warrior was still chatting with the Turian when Shepard called them to the bay. They stopped talking and went to go suit up.

Half an hour later they were waiting for Shepard near the shuttle.

"Have you ever free fell from the Normandy?" The Wanderer asked.

Garrus looked over at him with a confused look.

"Are you seriously suggesting that we free fall from 60, 000 feet up in the air?" The Turian questioned.

"Sure, then on the way back, the shuttle can pick us up." The Wanderer said.

Garrus was unsure if the warrior was being sarcastic, serious, or just stupid.

He certainly knew he wasn't stupid, and he didn't pick up sarcasm in his voice. Was he actually serious?

At that moment Shepard walked into the room.

"Alright guys, we intercepted a weird transmission from a nearby planet, and were going to check it out. After this we'll head to the Citadel." She said, getting into the Hammerhead. "Nothing exciting today."

"You know, you said those exact words before we ending up being attacked by a reaper, a few dozen collectors and couple hordes of husks." Garrus said, getting into the hammerhead, "Apparently facing extinction isn't exciting enough for you."

Jokers voice was suddenly heard through the Ships speakers "We're approaching the drop zone, Commander. Opening the bay doors."

Right after his message, there was a quiet rumbling as the doors in front of them opened. They were still several thousand feet above ground level, so all that was visible through the opened bay doors was was the planets clear blue atmosphere and the slight twinkling of stars behind the thin clouds covering the sky. They were instantly greeted by a maelstrom of wind.

Shepard motioned to the Wanderer to get in, but he shook his head.

The Wanderer placed his helmet over his head and sealed it shut. He looked over the horizon of the planet and ran toward the edge of the platform.

Shepard was going to ask if the warrior was either crazy or high, when he jumped off the Normandy.

.

Garrus was sitting in the passenger seat of the hammerhead and was at a loss of words. "But I thought he was joking..."

Shepard blinked a couple of times to make sure she hadn't just witnessed a man fall 60, 000 feet to his death. But she did.

"WTF?, DID THAT MOTHERF*CKER JUST DO WHAT I THINK I SAW HIM DO?" she screamed, over the torrent of air.

"YES?" Answered Garrus.

Shepard shut the Hammerhead Hatch. The interior of the vehicle blocked out the outside noise.

"Garrus, that was a rhetorical question." She said, her face in a scowl.

She started the engine and floored the acceleration. The Hammerhead shot out from the shuttle bay into the planets atmosphere.

.

The Hammerhead flew off the Normandy, and the ground of the planet thousands of feet below came into full view. It was a clear day, and one could see the abundance of forests and bodies of water that dotted the landscape.

A feeling of weightlessness was felt by both Shepard and Garrus as negative G's were exerted on their bodies.

Shepard was punching commands into the Hammerhead. "Garrus, try to see if you can spot that idiot, he should still be in the air near us, but our radar isn't online yet."

He nodded. Garrus looked over the horizon of the planet, when his eyepiece picked up a unidentified falling object. He zoomed in. It was an object wearing a black suit. An object in a black suit with a sword on his back. It was him. The Wanderer was free-falling with his limbs stuck close to his body. He must have spotted them, as he angled himself to glide closer to their vehicle.

Garrus tapped the Commander's shoulder. "Uh, Commander, you might want to look out the window..."

Jane Shepard looked out the window, and her visage turned from a angry to a dumbfounded look.

The falling man was now just a few meters from the Hammerhead window. He gave them a thumbs up while in the air. She swore that she would kick his ass when he landed, IF he landed in one piece.

Shepard activated their downward thrusters in order to land before the falling body. When they were rapidly approaching the ground, Shepard activated the landing thrusters.

The feeling of weightlessness from the negative Gs was abruptly replaced with a feeling of heaviness, which quickly slowed down their descent. After a few seconds, the Hammerhead came to a hard stop as it landed on the ground near a body of water. The vehicle's hover suspension absorbed most of the impact, causing it to rock up and down for a brief moment. Then all was silent.

They both looked got out of the Hammerhead and looked around. They hadn't seen the splattered remains of the warrior yet...so they both looked up.

.

The man clad in black armor was free falling at terminal velocity, zooming through the atmosphere. The suit was streamlined, but still caused friction with the surrounding air causing it to glow a dull red as it heated up. Shepard had used the Hammerhead thrusters to speed up in order to land before him, and he could see them on the ground below him. He too could see forests and bodies of water that dotted the planets surface, and within him stirred the remnants of a memory. He instantly knew he had been here before, but the reason why was still hazy. Something in the back of his head was warning him of something, but it wasn't clear.

He was getting closer to the surface. He stretched out his arms and legs into into a star position as he slowed his descent. The plates on his suit activated and they unclipped themselves and fanned out around him, in order to create air resistance. It wasn't as good as a parachute, but it did the job. He was slowing, but was still falling too fast to land on solid ground.

Near the land site, was a small lake. He angled himself and positioned himself feet first, and just before he hit the water, the plates on his suit drew themselves back onto his body.

.

The Wanderer's body hit the water with not much of a splash. Moments later his head bobbed above the water and he swam to shore. His suit was dripping with water, and acted like everything he just did had been completely normal.

He approaching them just as equally casual. He didn't even get to open his mouth before Shepard's fist flew forward and connected with his helmet. He was caught completely off guard and staggered back.

Shepard was fuming. "Don't you ever do that again! Do you hear me? Or so help me god I'll break every bone in your body, wait till it heals, then break it again! Is that understood? I'm sure you are used to working alone but as of recently you are living on my ship, so you go by my rules! Understood?"

"Yes...I'm sorry, I should have told you first." He said cowering before her rage.

She took a deep breath and calmed down.

"Good. I'm glad you haven't been reduced to a pile of goo. Now the signal should be not too far north from here, but we got a bit of walking to do. Tell me before pulling a stunt like that." Shepard began walking into the dense forest with Garrus in tow.

As they started walking Garrus leaned over to the Wanderer. "You think you can teach me how to do that that free-falling thing?"

.

After walking for a good half-hour minutes, the team reached a small clearing in the foliage. They stopped walking and looked around. They were standing amidst seemingly deserted ruins. Prothean ruins.

Shepard attempted to contact the Normandy. "Shepard to Joker, do you copy?"

No response.

"Shepard to Joker, do you copy?"

Still nothing.

"Seems like that signal is blocking ours. Looks like were on our own now. Lets spread out."

Shepard signaled them to fan out. Garrus looked down the scope of his rifle into the surrounding area. Infrared, biometric, nothing. No signs of life.

The wind whistled through the leaves and the sunlight filtered through the thick canopy above them. The sun was beginning to set in the south.

The Wanderer keeled in front of one ruin. It was a pillar made of stone. Engraved into it, was a symbol. He reached out and outlined it with his hand. It again stirred some memories of resemblance, but he couldn't quite place it. He was absolutely certain that he had been here before.

His concentration was broken by a small mammal that had burst strayed onto their path and then rushed back into the foliage. He looked at his feet.

The ground was littered with fallen debris and pieces of metal. In front of them loomed a low pyramid. The entrance was open.

Shepard broke the silence. "The signal is located anywhere from 50 feet from this location. Possibly being inside that pyramid." She looked at the Wanderer. He was still looking at the pillar and had not said anything since the landing incident.

"You recognize something?" She asked him.

"Yes, it's just that... I think I've been here before," He said getting up. "This place is way too familiar."

Garrus approached the door of the pyramid. He shone a light down the pitch-dark corridor.

"So who wants to go down the creepy tomb first?" He said.

The Wanderer and Shepard walked right in. Shepard was carrying her Shotgun and the Wanderer was grasping his sword in front of him. The light that shone from their helmets illuminated the dark passage and projected freaky looking shadows on the walls. The walls were illustrated with faded pictures depicting epic battles and fearsome monsters. Shepard thought she even saw a reaper. It was brown, not black, however. The Wanderer's memories were being stirred again. It was all too familiar, and there was something that his mind was trying to tell him. It was like a hammer against a wall. Each time he saw something the memory would be in his grasp yet not enough to reach.

They approached a central chamber. It was a massive room, the ceiling looked reflective, and the ruins of statues adorned the walls. There was no light sources other the lights on their helmets. The very top of the room held a huge crystal, and in the middle of the room, in front of them stood a V.I. terminal. It was obviously inactive and seemed like no one had set foot in here for years. It had quickly become dark outside and one of the moons cast a reflective glow down part of the corridor.

_The moon... and the crystal..._

Shepard hooked up her omni-tool to the inactive V.I. to try to get info.

"Garrus secure the exit just in case. With our luck we could be walking into a trap"

He crouched just outside of the entrance.

"Got power, and there's some data!" Shepard exclaimed. "It seems like the Protheans built things to last."

Garrus kicked a rock at his feet. "That's strange, you would think someone else would have been here before us, seeing how the front door was open and you managed to get access data that quickly..." He looked down at the rock, only that it wasn't a rock...

The torches in the room were suddenly activated and the room was filled with light. They all froze. There were standing amidst piles and piles of bones. The rock Garrus had kicked was actually a skull.

"I swear I didn't touch anything!" He said raising his hands in the air.

Suddenly something in the Wanderer's mind clicked and the realization hit him hard. So hard that he instantly broke into a cold sweat.

"Shepard we... have to go." He said. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end.

"Hold on a sec here, I think I got something..." She said, her fingers mashing away at her omni-tool. "Most of the data is corrupted, but we got something...It seems the V.I. was called MERCY"

_MERCY...! _

Fear was now griping the Wanderer. He wasn't afraid of much in the galaxy, but this memory had him gripped on the edge. He felt his pulse quicken, and sweat beaded on his forehead even in the climate controlled suit.

He gritted his teeth. "Shepard we have to go NOW" He said grabbing her wrist.

She looked up. "What the hell do you think your doing..."

Just as her words left her mouth, the moon came in full view down the corridor, and reflected off the metallic ceiling, illuminating the crystal above them.

It was the last piece of the puzzle.

Before any of them could react, the light was refracted from the crystal hitting several niches in the walls surrounding them.

"GO" He yelled, panic filling the air.

The door slammed down between Garrus and them, blocking their escape.

They were trapped inside and Garrus outside.

The supposed inactive V.I. terminal suddenly flickered to life.

"In accordance to law # 37: all re-animated specimens will be released every full moon following standard containment procedures." It stated in a mechanical voice. It beeped once then added, "Intruders detected. Trespassing upon the Tomb of the Fallen, violates law # 13: Penalty is death."

Shepard began rapidly punching in commands with her omni-tool.

"We're trapped. We still have no connection with Normandy, and the V.I. just activated, what the hell is going on?" She asked him in haste.

The warrior readied his sword in front of him.

"Do you believe in ghosts Commander?"


	16. Chapter 16 : Tomb II

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_"Do you believe in ghosts Commander?"_

She looks at him.

She takes her shotgun out and stands beside him.

A loud roar is heard in the chamber and they both look around in search of it's source but see nothing.

"What's going on?" She asked, "You said you've been here before?"

He circled the V.I. platform, keeping an eye on the niches in the wall.

"This place is called "The Tomb Of The Fallen". It where my the galaxy's greatest heroes where laid to rest. The Reapers seem to have overlooked it twice. Partially, because it was not in any official records, the A.I. only activates on the night of a full moon, and this place is largely made of stone" He said.

A screech could be heard in the distance.

"Many years ago myself and my team came here to pay our respects to a fallen comrade. She was ... a very close friend of mine. It was a night, much like this one, and we were found in the same situation." He said, his voice wavering.

"What happened?"

"I …. don't know. After the door closed on us... I can't remember anything after that. A passing patrol found me a few days later, _outside_ the pyramid. I had no memory of the incident and I wasn't myself for quite some time. My mind had shut down. When we approached this place earlier I knew I had been here before, but everything else was blurry." He said, turning around to face the interior of the chamber.

Shepard's mind instantly flew to her own memories. The attack on Mindoir was still fresh in her mind like it was yesterday. She had tried to distance herself from remembering, but it kept coming back to haunt her... The attack, the slaughter, sole survivor, being found days later, not remembering what happened. It was like her brain cracked with the horrors she had witnessed. And here beside her was a person, around 100,000 years old, powerful, had experienced so much, and yet he was just like her.

Shepard tried her com. Still Nothing. "Why is there an V.I.? and why only on a full moon?"

The Wanderer kept talking. "It was said that something special happened to this place on a full moon. It was strictly forbidden to enter during that time. There is an A.I. in place to ensure no one gets in...or out."

"Or out? Are we talking about husks?" Shepard was starting to get a little freaked out.

"I do not know. But we aren't getting out until sun rise." He turned around again. He looked at Shepard. "I thought it was just a myth, but when they pulled me out of this place, I was lucky to be alive...The rest of my team...They were gone. Like they never existed."

His speech was broken by another screech that echoed in the walls of the massive chamber.

"Sounded closer." Shepard was standing in front of him. She was beginning to feel the effects of fear as well. Her mind kept replaying her of her time on Mindoir over and over again. She feel cold sweat fall down her neck. Memories she though she never had started resurfacing. Her head swam. She checked her visor displayed bio-stats of Hers and the Wanderer's. Both showed a dramatic increase in heart activity and mental stress.

She was about to reach out to him, when suddenly the room was plunged into darkness.

.

Never could be remember having felt such a sense of dread.

Over the years he cheated death frequently. He had stared down monsters and machines alike. He could free-fall from space, take out an army armed to the teeth and still be able to make it back in time for an evening meal. After so many times, for so long, you seem to forget how it is to be truly scared. Danger becomes the daily routine and you become desensitized without even knowing.

As time went on in his life, the horrors he saw and felt all around him piled up like a delicate tower. There's only so much you can see before the tower falls and you crack. So in order to keep his sanity and his life, he had buried his past, consisting of only his memories, in the very deepest recesses of his mind. They were currently forgotten, but not gone. Every so often something he does or sees triggers a long lost memory and it crawls back from its hidden place into the light. And when that happens... the memory comes down like a hammer. Unforgiving, real and utterly terrifying.

He held his weapon in a death grip. His pupils dilated and his breathing increased. A shiver ran down his spine. His heart felt like it was about to explode.

_GET A GRIP DAMMIT._

He felt Shepard's hand reach for him and he reached back. They held both of each other by the arm. The Wanderer's grip was almost crushing.

It seemed both of them needed mental support.

His relaxed his breathing and his heart calmed slightly. His forced himself to relax his grip.

His short period of relaxation was shattered as he heard a bustle of activity behind him.

He looked over his shoulder, and in the shadows stood two yellow eyes looking back at him. He was still held in his fear but the yellow eyes did not increase or decrease his total phobia level. He wasn't afraid of these eyes, not these ones...

Upon eye contact the unknown entity attacked. He was rooted to the spot.

Shepard took the challenge instead.

In one swift move Shepard brought her shotgun up and pulled the trigger. After a flash of light the furry of activity came to a stop.

Shepard leaped off the floor and looked at the creature. It was a rat, if that was what you could call it. It was huge, at least a meter and a half in length. It has two sets of three eyes.

She noticed another sign of life to her right and so did the Wanderer. They both turned to face it.

It was beast about the same size a man. It was covered in decayed hair and one could see the bones poking through underneath. A slight blue glow emenated.

Shepard immediately fired off a round from her shotgun directly into its face, and it went down like a pile of bricks.

"Heh, that wasnt too hard." She said, reloading.

The Wanderer stood still. Another memory surfaced. A former friend from another time that suggested something once to him.

He turned to her. "Please punch me as hard as you can. Right now"

"What?"

She looked to her right and froze in her tracks. There were an army of "them" streaming out of the niches in the wall around them.

"DO IT NOW!"

She didn't waste another second. She drew he fist back and put her strength into a punch that sent him sprawling to the floor.

She took out her assault rifle and sprayed the area as the warrior got off the floor.

The sudden and blunt physical trauma snapped him out of his paralysis. A battle was at hand. Survival was something the mind dedicated its entire self to accomplish. He picked up his sword and began swinging.

.

As they fought, they noticed more and more of different species started to join the fight, seemingly an endless amount. The heat of the battle had calmed their nerves.

Shepard dodged a claw and rewarded a face full of shrapnel to her closest assailant, but this time it didn't go down in one shot. With it's head gone, it continued to crawl towards them. The Wanderer responded by chopping it down the middle, spinning 360 degrees and removing several others of their limbs. He removed the torso of three other creatures, but the top halves still remained alive. Shepard fired incendiary ammo onto the corpses and they went up in flames.

She tried her comm again. Still nothing. Her motion tracker showed that they were completely surrounded.

Shepard fired volley after volley into the approaching crowd of seemingly increasing army of the undead. The Wandered dodged teeth as he threw himself into the middle of the crowd, dispatching them after many decapitations.

He swung his sword out and low, chopping at least half a dozen. He slashed to his left and jumped back to the middle of the chamber. He noticed another to his left, so he struck and ... the sound of metal on metal was heard.

It seemed his attack was blocked.

He head the sound of an object moving though the air at high speeds, and he jumped back in time to dodge the attack. A new attacker emerged from the crowd. It had blue scaly skin that looked like it was falling off the bone. It's left eye was missing, but it held a mace the size of a head. It struck again, but it wasn't fast enough. The Wanderer bashed its head in and readied for more.

Shepard threw a singularity into the middle of the crowd and it got rid of a entire group. As dumb as their enemies were up until this point, they seemed to be getting less and less likely to fall into their bullets.

She began to notice that some were keeping their distance instead of running in and getting their asses handed to them. The enemies were getting smarter and more advanced as they fought through literally and metaphorically, "an army in time". At the beginning of their fight they had faced primitive creatures, but now they were approaching races that were more developed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a massive cat like creature that jumped from nowhere and tackled Shepard. The sheer weight of the animal caused her to fall and drop her gun. The Wanderer saw this and cleaved it in half, stopping short of the human underneath. Shepard grabbed her gun from the floor and sprayed the air with her rifle. It broke a creatures legs and it fell. She got up and stood next to the Wanderer in front of her. The two of them were standing back to back using the lights from their helmets to see what they were fighting, as they were the only source of light in the pitch-dark room.

They felt each other standing at each others back and they worked as one to survive. No words were needed to be spoken.

The Wanderer was using his sword to decapitate any who got too close while Shepard was clearing the room with controlled blast from her shotgun. Another blue skinned creature got too close and swung its mace. Upon grabbing Shepard's arm, he ducked, and swung her in a high arm above him. She flew into the air and pumped rounds into its decaying body be fore landing back on the ground.

She checked her heat-sinks. She was on her last one. She fired the last of it into the last remaining group of giant rats and dropped it to the floor. Seeing this, the Wanderer picked up the fallen mace from a previous adversary and beat the living hell out of a creature with horns to the right of him. He handed the mace to Shepard. She grabbed it and they continued fighting for their lives.

"If we don't make it to sunrise, then this tomb becomes ours." He said, between breaths. They were both running out of fighting power.

They took turns attacking in order to conserve energy, as it seemed like the amount of undead soldiers were endless. However the re-animated corpses had lost most of their intellect from being dead, so the duo still had a fighting chance.

The Wanderer swung his sword into the nearest zombie and turned to cleave another. He ducked, jumped and dodged claws, teeth and horns. He punched one in the face and roundhouse kicked another. He looked over at Shepard. It seemed she was also holding her own. She slammed the mace into a creatures face and it fell apart. She biotically charged into another group and instantly decapitated several. He turned back to his own fight. There were less and less of them attacking, they were close.

He readied himself or the next wave when he saw a pair of intense red eyes in the horde that stopped him cold in his tracks. _Those eyes._ He froze up. Fear was again crawling its way back up his spine. His mind was screaming for him to move, but his limbs wouldn't budge. He had seen someone who he thought was long gone, someone who had been lost forever.

_No way...She's..._

The two sets of eyes vanished.

_?_

The wanderer was struck with a weapon to the torso and it flew him across the room. Shepard turned to the assailant and also stopped in her tracks. Whatever had attacked the Wanderer also LOOKED like the Wanderer. The...thing...had a suit almost identical to his, but included feminine proportions. She had a hammer as big as her, and has glowing red eyes that would instantly scare the living shit out of any normal person. Fortunately for her, she wasn't a normal person. Shepard attempted to strike the "Wanderer-look-alike" but it jumped before she could land a blow.

Did the "Wanderer-look-alike" also had his powers?

The thought barely entered her mind when she was hit with the handle of a weapon from out of nowhere and flew across the room also.

She landed next to him and heard a couple of ribs crack. Her suit automatically started pumping medi-gel into the wound. They were both on their feet in seconds despite injury.

The Wanderer was dumbstruck.

"She's alive..." He said, his shaky demeanor had returned. He pulled the helmet off his head and looked around.

"WHAT?" Shepard was about to ask him what he was doing. Removing a helmet in the middle of hostile territory was against protocol.

The being appeared next to them, followed by a loud booming sound created when an object breaks the sound barrier. The force of the expanding air caused them to lose their balance. Shepard looked up. Its red eyes glowed in the darkness. She had looked up in time to get a glimpse of its face. It had... the face of a young woman? Although her appearance looked somewhat youthful, her teeth were bared along with ragged marks around her face. She looked like a demon.

Before the hammer slammed down upon them, it was stopped mid air by the Wanderers sword. He could have easily knocked her off her feet, but he wasn't going for it. He stood there, in the deadlock refusing to move an inch.

_Why couldn't she recognize him?_ he thought. Another memory surfaced. His eyes haze over.

_The sun was warm and bright that day. The breeze was perfect. The air smelt of the sea. She looks over at him, her short white hair swaying in the wind_. _She had bright green eyes that could melt your heart and a smile that was dangerously contagious. They were atop a mountain looking down at the picture-perfect landscape below them. He motions her over. "I need to do something before we go" He takes out his camera. A small sound is heard. He caches the sun and the landscape in the background and in the middle, the two of them. The perfect picture. He makes two copies. He keeps one, and gives her the other. "Just in case something ever happens, I'm with you always." They kiss._

His memories fast-forward.

_He is waiting for her at the docks. She isn't showing. She should be back by now. Apprehension, Panic. There were reaper sightings in the area she was stationed. No word from them yet. He waits. _

His memories fast-forward.

_He gets a message. He opens the letter. He cant believe what he is seeing. He reads the letter again, and again. Tears stream down his face. She is gone._

The haze dissolves and the Wanderer is brought back to the present moment. Both the warrior and the unknown entity struggled for a few seconds then they both dissipate. Shepard had no intention to join this fight, as they were way too overpowered for her. It appeared that there were no other zombies left whole in the cavern, but she had no intention in letting her guard down.

ClNG.

The sound of metal against metal was heard else where in the chamber and a huge spark could be seen that illuminated both of the fighters.

ClNG

She head it again, but now it was elsewhere, and another flash of light.

ClNG, ClNG,

Each time she heard a sound, they both appeared, attacked then retreated into the darkness as quickly as they had come.

CING.

They appeared at either side of the chamber. Neither seemed to have even laid a scratch upon the other. The both bolted to the middle of the room, meeting the other midway, as their weapons clashed in one final swing.

A huge shockwave of sparks illuminated the chamber...And they force sends them both backwards into their respective walls. Their weapons had flown out of their hands and landed far from reach. They both get up and sprint to the center of the chamber. The female struck out with a fist, but was blocked by the Wanderers hand. He retaliated, but she ducked and swept her foot across the ground to knock him off balance.

He jumped. She grabbed his foot and pulled it back down. She hooked him one to the left and he head butted her in return. She staggered backwards in a feint and swung her leg 180 around hitting him in the stomach. He flew backwards hard into a stone block and slumped over.

The Wanderer was in turmoil. He was hurting himself a little more each time he struck her. It seemed that she retained nothing but the most primal part of the brain. The part that fights. No reasoning with someone who doesn't think, but acts on instinct. Every time she attacked, he fought the urge to reach out and embrace her. He resented killing her, but it was either her or them, and the rest of the galaxy hung in the balance.

Just as he predicted, she jumped high into the air and proceeded to drop her armored knee into his exposed midsection.

"Not this time, Nala!" He suddenly shot his head up with a sad grin on his face. He had been bluffing, as he knew she would use that technique once he was down. When they used to train together, she had perfected this move and he had never countered it properly. However it was thousands of years since they had trained and he had found a counter.

Just as she was about to slam down into him, he dissipated, appeared directly behind her with his body facing the wall, grabbed her head from behind, and in a wide arc, threw her into straight into the stone wall.

She did not move when she dropped to the ground...

.

He stood, panting, as Shepard limped to him.

"You okay?" She asked as she approached him, while looking at the body of the assailant who lay crumpled on the floor.

He said nothing but stared at the fallen entity.

She looked at him. His eyes had lost its emerald shine and were reduced to a dark green colour.

She decided to give him space and she tried to connect to the Normandy once more. Still nothing. She was about to ask him to help her when...she turned toward him and saw a look of surprise on his face. Her eyes darted to the body on the floor, when she saw it stirring.

"o my god"

The being jumped to its feet and lunged toward Shepard. Both Shepard and the Wanderer had been completely caught off guard. Shepard jumped to her right just in time to dodge the attack. Nala missed and landed on all fours. It made another lunge at her. Shepard connected with her elbow that knocked the unknown back down. A crack was heard. It did not stop a third attack.

This time the Wanderer was there to intercept her. He clotheslined her. She connected with his arm and flew back...right next to her weapon that had been tossed earlier.

The Wanderer realized this and rushed to pick it up before she could. Too late.

She didn't have a strong swing but he was hit dead center and the plates on the front of his suit cracked. He flew backwards.

With the Wanderer out off the way, Nala turned to Shepard who was now rushing to find the Wanderer's fallen sword. The entity chases after her. Shepard finds his sword atop a pile of bones, grabs it, turns, and swung blindly. It missed the womans head by an inch, but impacts the handle of the hammer out of her hands unexpectedly, knocking her backwards.

The Wanderer arrives back on scene, clutching his side with one hand. He sees her get up and lunge at Shepard again.

He needed to end this now. They were all exhausted and the slightest mistake could end it right now. With one last burst of energy he flew forward.

A hand covered in black armor slammed into her neck.

He was inches away from her face and he looked straight into her eyes.

"Nala...I know your in there...Please stop..." he said, his voice was softer. He was in no shape to continue fighting.

She lifted her hand to attack, but then miraculously she didn't move. They stood silent and without movement. She lookes into his eyes and for a few seconds... just for a few seconds, her face softened and her eyes changed from the blood red to a light shade of green. Her demonic look changed to an angelic complexion. Time seemed to stand still for a moment.

Her lips parted for an instant and a barely audible whisper escaped her mouth.

"- "

She dropped limp in his hand.

The lights turned back on. The decapitated bodies crumbled to dust. The timer on Shepards omni-tool started beeping. It was sunrise.


	17. Chapter 17 : Repairs

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_The timer on Shepards omni-tool started beeping. It was sunrise._

The stone door of the crypt opened suddenly, flooding the chamber with light, revealing a very surprised Garrus and Legion. Garrus was kneeling in front of the now open door with a huge explosive device in hand. No one moved or said anything for several seconds.

The Wanderer looked back at his hand. His fist was holding nothing by air. He looks down. A crumpled and badly damaged suit lay at his feet. He looked around. Every one of the un-dead were gone except for bones that littered the floor. It was like nothing had ever happened...He looks at Shepard. She is just as dumbfounded as he is. He looks back at the others at the door.

.

Legion breaks the silence. "My assumption was correct. The entrance closes during lunar activity and opens when daylight arrives." He said, turning looking up. "Shepard-Commander, are you alright?"

She dosn't answer.

Instead she activates her omni-tool. Her suit had a combat cam so it must have had recorded the fight. She begins viewing the vid from when they entered the tomb. She sees herself hook up to the V.I. terminal then... Static. She fasts forward. More static. She fast forwards even more. Static, then the lights come on, the door opens and she is looking at herself in real-time.

It was like it never happened.

Garrus gets off the ground. "You guys alright? After the door closed on us, we couldn't contact you for a while and we've been trying to open this door..." Said Garrus, standing upright.

She looks at the Wanderer. He is standing still, not moving. His arm still outstretched and hand grasped around nothing. He has a look of utter mortification on his face.

He relaxes his arm.

"Everythings fine now." The warrior says and picks us the fallen armor and his helmet. He is wearing a weak smile on his face, but Shepard sees right through it. "Nothing in here but bones and dust, isn't that right Commander?"

She tried to find the words to describe the situation but can think of nothing.

"Yeah...Everythings fine..." She says, staring at the man in front of her. She exits the tomb without looking back.

. ...

BACK ON THE NORMANDY

. ...

The Wanderer was repairing his shattered suit with the other almost identical suit he had conveniently "found" in the tomb. He was currently using the mess hall table. It was at "night", only that the Normandy didn't have daylight hours, but nevertheless it was when the majority of the crew slept. A bunch of armor plates were laid across the table and he was busy replacing his own shattered plates with the good ones still left from her suit.

He stopped working. He took out a picture. _The_ picture. The picture he had took of them all those years ago...It brought a smile to his sad complexion.

He looked back at her suit. Most of it was still good for parts, but the fight and the lack of maintenance over thousands of years had left it greatly deteriorated. He had finished repairing the under-suit. There were still a few of the hard plates that had to be replaced.

He stopped. He heard a the footsteps of a approaching body. Shepards. They were both surprised to find each other up and about at this time.

"Hey." He said, snapping another plate onto his suits frame.

"Hey yourself." She said. "What are you doing up at this time?" She asked.

He snapped the last of the plates onto his suit. "I was going to ask you the same thing." He said turning his suit over to the front. "Can't sleep?"

"Something like that" She walked over to the coffee machine. "Want one?"

He hooked up a terminal to his suits hardware layer to run diagnostics. "Sure"

She sat down in front of him and placed both drinks on the table. "So what you working on?" She took a sip of her hot coffee.

"Repairs" He said. He pushed a button on the terminal and the plates on his suit mechanically raised and clicked as they tested themselves. Different colours began glowing under the suit and then all movement ceased. He unplugged the terminal and set it aside. He also takes a sip of coffee. "Thanks by the way."

Shepard looks over the table littered with parts and sees the dissected remains of another suit. The suit from the tomb.

"Was that hers?" She asked.

"Yes." He said, reaching for a cloth. "My suit has been damaged for a while do finding another is a godsend." He says with a sigh.

Shepard doesnt say anything for a while. She spots the picture of the table.

"You told me you two were close..."

He nods and notices her looking the photograph. He hands her the picture.

She takes it.

She looks at the photo for while.

"She was beautiful." She says looking at the image. In it were the Wanderer and the woman, smiling and bright eyed. Obviously in love. In the background was to be described as a Kodak-moment. The sky and the landscape were captured perfectly. The sun looked warm and bright and bodies of water brought a sparkle to the rest of the landscape.

He began speaking.

"Her name was Nala. We had both just finished special training. Almost like your version on N7, but focused on survival above all else. We would have also been considered the equivalent of today's Spectres, mostly solitary work. Life was often dangerous and life spans were short. We may be able to heal fast, but were not gods. We decided to take a vacation and travel. That picture was taken during that time." He was polishing his armor.

Shepard also grabbed a cloth and assisted him.

Seeing this, the Wanderer continued.

"Not long thereafter...The Reapers arrived." He said, his voice showing signs of anger. "During that time, we really had no idea what hit us. She was assigned to an area where Reaper sightings had occurred. I remember I reached the docks too late that day and the craft left without me having ever said goodbye... ... I never saw her alive again." He stopped for a moment. "I was told they had recovered her body and was going to be laid to rest in the the Tomb of the Fallen" The anger in his voice was replaced with confusion.

"It was generally understood that no-one, under any-circumstances, should enter when there is a full moon. However I was foolish and arrived with several others just when the doors closed. We were in a situation exactly like the one of today." He looked at his suit, they were halfway done.

He continued. "Like I said earlier I have no recollection of anything after that. My team was gone and I was found cowering in fear, but alive. I was the only one who survived. The others were never found." He removed a piece of metal that was stuck in the shoulder portion.

"Who would have thought, thousands of years later, I would find myself in the exact same situation." He shook his head.

"You finally got some kind of closure." Shepard said

He looked up. "Yes I guess I did. Thats more than most can say, and for that i'm grateful. For a second there, she was normal, and I wish I knew more... but we will probably never know." He looked back down. "When the doors opened today, after the sun had come up...everything was gone. It was like nothing had ever happened..."

He thought for a moment "Does your suit have a cam?"

She was so engaged into what he was saying that she almost forgot the question needed answering.

"Yes, but I got nothing but static." She was quiet again. She yawned.

"You seem tired Jane, why don't you sleep?" He said. He was finished polishing. He lifted his suit up and inspected it.

It looked like brand-new. Its black plates almost gleamed. Light shed its surface like water beading off oil. It was completely repaired and its etched circuitry was free from any debris. Practically a work of art in itself.

"I think I'll head up now." She said, getting up dodging the question again. "Were going to talk to the council tomorrow. Gotta be ready to take on the political shitstorm."

He gave a chuckle.

"With the data from the Collector base and possibly even you..." She began.

He interrupted her.

"No. You use me as a last resort plan in case yours doesn't work. I've delt with enough politics in the past to know that the council wont take the data lightly. Further throwing in an impossible factor, me, would greatly hinder you and possibly get you caught in more red tape."

She crossed her arms across her chest. "Well, well, not only are you an engineer, but your also a politician..." She said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Well... I was on the Prothean council at one time..." He said sheepishly.

"What!?"

"That story is for another time." He leaned back on his chair. "I'm more like a "jack-of-all-trades" kind of guy" He remembers something. "Ah, I almost forgot." He pulls out a helmet from under the table. It was Shepard's.

"I upgraded it with some of the hardware from mine. As we discussed when I first came aboard, with your L2d Nerual opt. channel No 5 implant, it allows you to stream visual from you helmet directly to your brain." He says, handing the helmet to her.

"Wow, thanks for that." Her eyes light up. "Much appreciated."

She looks at the helmet for the moment. "I can't believe I'm only saying this now, but thank you for saving my life."

He raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, back when we were meeting you at Illium, you deflected that shot..."

He looks at her. "No, no. I actually wanted to say thank you. You saved my life at the tomb. Im sorry to have reacted that way and Im sorry to have put you under that situation. It's been years since someone has caught me in moment of vulnerability... If you were not there I surly would not have made it."

She was about to ask more, but decided not to bombard him with questions. He had so much experiences to share, and you could spend all day listening to him, but, things had to get done or they would be slaughtered if the Reapers showed up anytime soon.

"Anyways, I'm going to get some shut eye." She lied, "see you later."

He saw right through her lie, but decided not to pursue it. It was her life, on her ship after all.

"Goodnight Commander." He turned back to his work.


	18. Chapter 18 : Meeting the Council

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_"Goodnight Commander." He turned back to his work._

The next day started bright and early. They were to meet the council at 1200 hours in order to FINALLY convince them of the Reapers. If they were still stubborn fools after she gave them the data, then they were basically signing their own death wish.

Shepard called Thane, Mordin and the Wanderer to accompany her to the meeting. Thane's memories could be useful, and the data extracted by the Salarian doctor was invaluable. The warrior was the last resort, but hopefully the council would be convinced before he was brought into play. Just before leaving, Shepard sent the info about the Wanderer to Anderson, just in case. He was not only a member of the council, but also a good friend of hers.

.

Their transport landed at the docking area. The group entered the C-Sec check-in station.

"Please declare any weapons you or your team have in possession Ma'am." Said the lady at the desk.

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Exuze me, but i've been here more times than I can count and I'm a Spectre..."

"Sorry ma'am, new regulations."

Shepard thought this was a complete waste of time but proceeded anyway. "I got M-98 Widow, and M-76 Revenant. These guys have Carniflex pistols and Geth Pulse Rifles..." She could tell the woman behind the desk was rolling her eyes as Shepard listed their immense arsenal. Served her right for bothering them. Among their armory, they boasted an incredible array of firepower. Her Widow sniper rifle's power was rivalled only to Legions custom-built Widow, both one of the most powerful snipers, and the Revenant AR was a rapid-fire juggernaut of destruction that only the most wealthy or powerful warlords could afford. Andddddd, thanks to Legion her team had working Geth pulse rifles. A rarity above all else. The weapons they carried probably were either highly restricted or even unheard of.

"Anything else?" The woman said sarcastically.

Shepard thought for a moment. "Actually yes...he.." She says, pointing to the Wanderer, "has a sword, and I also have a M-920 Cain"

Why Shepard brought that much firepower to a political meeting was beyond anyones guess, but after previously crash-landing on the citadel in the Mako and fighting hordes of Geth to get to the control station had left an impression. Better safe than sorry.

She walked past the desk into the walkway.

They walked through the entrance and right up to the officer. As usual the Turian scanned them for ID.

"Hold on Ma'am while we run a scan," the officer said before some beeping sounded. He looked down at his console confused.

"Is there a problem?" Shepard asked. "It's not listing me as dead again, is it?"

"No, your fine, as well as the Drell and the Salarian" He said, punching a few buttons on the console in front of him. "Umm...well, the scanners are picking up an energy field from him," the guard said pointing at the Wanderer, "and the scanners are screening him as a..." he stopped in mid sentence, clearly looking very confused and embarrassed. "..an unknown creature?"

Shepard had completely forgotten that the Wanderer would raise some flags when faced with identification.

"Yeah...Il speak to Bailey about that. You know...Spectre business." Shepard was completely bull-shitting herself out of this situation.

The guard looked at her sceptically, but gave in. "Well, alright I suppose," he finally said, clearing them to enter. A quick walk through the doors and they reached the desk of Bailey.

"Ah, welcome back Commander," the man greeted while punching some buttons on his console. "Hmm...this is odd."

"What's odd?" Shepard asked, as if she didn't know.

"We have no records of him at all. It's like he's just popped up out of thin air." He said, typing in a few buttons. "Something is definitely wrong with our systems."

A few seconds pass. "Well, I see where the problem is. This guy here is giving off an energy field that the scanners haven't picked up before." he stated, hitting a few more buttons.

His face suddenly changed from confused to amazed. "Wow" He looked up from the screen to the Wanderer, then back again. "Something also seems to be wrong with the scanner."

The Wanderer wanted so say something but was unsure what to say. He had kept his cover for years, but now it was alright to assimilate into society. He could certainly tell him the truth, but he would either be hauled off to c-sec for interrogation or dissected in a lab by a group of scientists. Two places he really did not want to find himself in at this time and he especially did not want to draw any attention at all. Having himself constantly scrutinized by the media was not as cracked up as it seemed, as he knew how it was. Not fun.

He was wearing his suit, so nothing could be traced or picked up from him, except for the magnetolectric field, which could pass through any solid object.

Shepard saw the look on his face. "Something wrong?"

Bailey shook his head. "Take a look at this" He turned the screen around so they could see what he was looking at.

At first Shepard thought she was looking at a miniature sun, but upon closer inspection it revealed to be a heavily distorted real-time computer-enhanced video feed of her team standing in front of his desk.

"What exactly am I looking at?" She asked

"This.." He said pointing to a man sitting behind a desk, "is me, right now in real-time. "And this..." He said, pointing to the mini-sun in the center of the frame, "is your friend here."

Shepard stared at the screen for a moment then waved her hand above her head, while still looking at the screen. Her hand on screen waved back. The Wanderer...he had a pure-white yellow..."light", or something, that completely shrouded his being leaving his black suit completely blotted out by the sheer radiance of the field. However it wasn't stationary. Wisps or strands of this "light" would occasionally branch outward and infuse with the bodies of others in close proximity leaving a glow on their persons that remained there for a few moments.

_Was this the field, the healing ability, that Mordin was talking about?_

As if reading her mind Mordin spoke up.

"Your scanners have not malfunctioned. The Wan..." He stopped in mid-sentence. looked at the Wanderer unsure whether to continue.

The Wanderer continued Mordin's sentence. "Freak accident with a mass effect drive. Mordin here, is studying me on my condition. The...radiation is non-invasive, my suit protects other persons in close-proximity." He quickly put together a complete bogus story that seemed to fit, that Bailey ended up buying. He gave him a temporary pass on the Citadel.

With that matter done, the group continued toward Anderson's office.

Anderson stood by the balcony, arms on the guardrail, looking over the ledge at the great lake that stretched before him. The lake sparkled in the light. He sighed.

His life had turned out exactly how he wished it would be. See some action, kill a few bad guys, make it onto the council. He was extremely honored and privileged to have actually accomplished his lifelong dream. He always imagined himself in his later years sitting behind a desk instead on the front lines, however, no matter how many times he ran it through his mind, he still missed the intense action. Political life was cold and bleak compared to life on the Normandy. He missed yelling in the face of the council and helping Shepard chase down Seran, AND punching Udina in the face, now THAT was something that he had wanted to do for years. But now the galaxy stood on the edge of a coin. The Reapers were going to come sooner or later, but the rest of the council refused to let his ideas complicate their life. Ignorance was bliss right? Even he could try and forget about everything and wait until the Reapers were upon them, but he was not that sort of man. Shepard had saved the galaxy once before and that game him hope. In fact she was supposed to meet her soon...

"Anderson?" came a voice from behind. He turned.

He immediately recognized Shepard and stepped forward to shake hands.

"Shepard, its good to see you again. So, what brings you here, other than to visit an old friend?" asked Anderson.

He glanced at the team she had brought with her. He recognized Mordin Solus, and the Drell from her report, but one look at the other party member stopped him in his tracks.

"Is this him?" he asked with a quiet voice. Shepard had sent him a now-fully-completed dossier of the Wanderer just hours previous. He was wondering if what he read was possible, but he never doubted anything Shepard had to say, so he trusted she wasn't pulling some lame prank on him.

"In the flesh." Shepard responded.

The Wanderer stepped forward and shook hands with Anderson.

"Glad to finally meet you. I want to thank you personally for endangering your career when helping Shepard in the past, but it seems your doing well for yourself." The Wanderer says as he glances around the spacious office with a view of the whole Presidium.

"Thank you. Do you know your the only person other than Shepard who has actually said that?" He turns his attention back to Shepard.

"I really don't want to draw this out, but..." She pauses. "We staged our raid on the Collector stronghold less than a week ago, Anderson" said Shepard.

That got Anderson's immediately snapped to what she was saying. "You're telling me that you went through the Omega 4 relay, destroyed the Collector base, and came back in one piece?" He shook his head in disbelief for a moment, then simply said "Shepard, you're a god-damn force of nature."

"We managed to gather quite a bit of data from the Collector's data-banks." said Shepard, "Enough to prove that the Reaper threat is real. We've even gathered some data on their leader, a Reaper called Harbinger."

Anderson said nothing for several seconds, trying to drink it all in. "Shepard...THATS AMAZING!" He was grinning ear-to-ear. He immediately wanted to break out in a happy-dance but he wanted to remain professional.

"The council is awaiting my call." He said, nearing the huge holopad. "You ready to stir up a political- shitstorm?"

"Personally, I cant wait to see the look on the Turian's face..." Shepard said, preparing to meet the council once more...

The images of the members on the council were displayed in front of them. It seemed like they had upgraded their hologram projectors once again. The councils members were displayed as if they were actually there in person and the background was the council chamber.

"Anderson, what is your reason for calling this council meeting?" The Turian Councillor asked impatiently.

"I apologize to my fellow Council members for making them take the time for this meeting, but this is extremely important." said Anderson, "Commander Shepard has just returned from a raid on the Collector Base through the Omega 4 relay, and has recovered vital information relating to the Reapers." He said with a hint of enthusiasm in his voice.

"You expect us to believe the Commander actually went through to Omega 4 relay and came back?" demanded the Turian Councilor, "And we have already determined the Reapers are NOT real. They don't exist."

Shepard stepped forward with a feeling of immense pride. "Sorry to 'burst your bubble' councillor, but you cannot be farther than the truth." She said, trying to pick and choose which words were appropriate to say in this situation. She could have just as easily started swearing like she usually did, but they had a good case here, and it was an opportunity she couldn't pass up.

She inserted the OSD containing all the data gathered into the Council terminal. "In this OSD are Reaper schematics, weapon blueprints, collector data." Shepard wanted to hit home and hit hard. She paused for dramatic effect. The information and images were streaming down the hologram in front of them.

"We also found a reaper under construction and we destroyed it along with their base located at the galactic center...and lived to tell the tale." She motioned in the direction of the Thane. "He has the entire thing recorded in his mind in case you wanted a witness. As the rest of my squad."

She let her words sink in. The council was completely silent.

The silence was interrupted by the Turian. "I'm seeing in your report that you destroyed the base, and everything it contained, despite having a chance to save it. Do you have any idea what that technology would have done to help us against the Reapers? You may have destroyed any hope we had of survival!"

Shepard shot him a death glare. "In order to get through the Omega 4 relay, we had to use a Reaper IFF beacon. That one beacon, almost cost my entire crew their lives. And you want to use technology thousands of times more complex? Upon reaching our destination we were almost immediately crushed by parts of ships that were ripped apart from even ATTEMPTING to cross through. We then CRASH-LANDED on the base and were instantly assaulted by COLLECTORS AKA PROTHEANS..."

"This is absurd!" Interrupted the Turian councillor.

Shepard was just pushed into rage-mode.

"Please let me finish. They were once Protheans, but they received extensive genetic rewriting from the Reapers. As I was saying, we were then attacked by a REAPER-IN-PROGRESS that the collectors were building. You were NOT there with us, fighting for your life. You were NOT there, standing amongst piles of bodies. You did not witness the horrific experiments they were conducting. How many people were screaming as they were processed into some sort of genetic paste...including members of my crew, to create an a machine from HELL. And of course we did this without any help from THE COUNCIL, and we managed to SAVE THE GALAXY, AGAIN. So DO NOT question my judgement. The Illusive man might be a douche bag, but he knows how to get the job done. At this point I really don't give a crap that he might be the leader of a pro-human-insane-experimenting-bunch-of-creeps, but they seem the only ones that GIVE A DAMN about anyone else. And of course even if we saved the base, we had no idea if we were even going to make it out alive, to come back here, to tell you. God-forbid if I was not standing here, and I did not make it back, the Galaxy as you know it will DIE. So I say, if you even have a shred of understanding or even a ounce of compassion you will ask yourselves whether you are ready to see every man, women and child you know, perish.

Shepard took a few deep breaths to calm down. She had just raised her voice at the council. She really had no choice.

That seemed to lengthen the silence even more.

The Asari councillor looked through the info and finally spoke up. "All this time, it seems we were wrong." She looked at Anderson, then Shepard, and said "You were right. We were wrong to doubt you Commander, Councillor. We owe you a sincere apology."

"This cannot go on!" The Turian exclaimed "We cannot trust Shepard this quickly. What if she's lying? What is she's making this up?"

"That is not true," this time the Salarian spoke "I have verified the authenticity of this data, the results show that the collector base was scanned by the Normandy SR2. There is no doubt that this data is real."

The Turian was finally beaten. Shepard had finally won.

"Thank you. We will inform you once we have developed a strategy to fight the reapers. Is there anything else?" Asked the Salarian.

Shepard was ready to turn around and walk right out the door triumphantly but she stopped herself.

"Actually yes, councillor." She approached the terminal once more but uploaded something else. It was a gamble but it was either now or never. She had to tell them now while the after-glow of her victory still remained.

"This data is to remain completely confidential until further notice." She said pushing a few buttons on the terminal. She saw the Salarian motion to her team to leave the room but stopped them. "My team can stay, as they already know."

She stood up straight.

"The data in this OSD pertains to someone...who can help us." She said.

A new window opened in the hologram. Instantly more data, different data, began falling down the screen. It wasn't about any piece of machinery or weapon, it was about a being...

A large title appeared at the top of the projected screen with the display : 'THE WANDERER'

The dossier appeared and so did the images of relics from Ilos, Feros and Therum...The vids from the extranet and Mordin's gathered data.

The council was reading the info as fast as their eyes could dart between the lines of text.

A final image opened up. It was a image of the Wanderer present day. In full suit of course.

The asari looked at the image for several seconds, then back at Shepard. "But that's not possible..." the Asari began...

Then she noticed there was someone there, standing behind Shepard, someone who had not uttered a word this entire time. Someone with black armor, someone with a huge sword, someone who matched the image exactly. Someone who stepped out of the shadows.

She was speechless.

The Turian once again destroyed the silence. He looked at the Asari to the left of him. "Are you seriously even contemplating this utter nonsense?" When he also spotted the being situated in the room.

"What?" His mandibles waving around. "You can't be serious?"

"I am councillor." She nodded to the Warrior, urging him closer.

"Standing with us today is The Wanderer. Someone who has personally witnessed the Reapers in action, twice. Someone who is here to help us to overcome a eternity of genocide." The Wanderer stepped up to the plate.

The Asari was confused. "Twice?, but that would make him ..."

"over 100,000 years of age." Finished the Wanderer. His powerful voice stopping all conversation. "I originate from a species from before the Protheans, and I am the last remaining member. I also lived among the Protheans, thus giving me thousands of years to formulate a plan to stop this cycle of death once and for all." he said.

"If you were in contact with the Protheans," the Turian said "Why didn't you warn them or stop the Reapers sooner?"

The Wanderer looked directly at the Turian. "Why, councilor?, because they acted just like you."

_OWNED!_ Shepard and Anderson thought in their minds. That certainly shut him up.

The warrior returned to face all 3 of them. "I did, but they did not listen. I hope history does not repeat itself." Still silence.

"I am in the workings of a plan, however I require help from every species, every ship and the attention of the entire Galaxy. If not we will we wiped out without hesitation. United we stand, apart we fall."

"That is impossible" Replied the Salarian.

"Not really Councilor." Said Shepard. "I have already confirmed that the Krogan and the Rakni are willing to help. As well as the Geth, but they are still building consensus."

All of the council had their mouths hanging open.

The Wanderer had one more thing up his sleeve. Something that would put the council in a coma for the next 10 years. It was time to reveal the contents of the last storage device the Protheans had given him.

"Theres one more thing," he said taking out an peculiar looking storage crystal. Storage crystals were the pinnacle of information storage. It could hold vast amounts of data and it could last forever. It had no moving parts and was impossible to corrupt. The Protheans had used them and to find one in this time was not only a rarity, but considered priceless.

The warrior placed the crystal in front of the holo. "Please clear screen and transmit wavelength 13.8967 QTS." Unless the laser was in tune with the right frequency, its data would be scrambled.

The light turned blue and an explosion of data covered the holo screen. The crystal carried unknown amounts of data, and the screen in front of them was filled with 3-dimensional diagrams and Prothean text. It was translated and the title read "PROJECT:CONDUIT"

"What you see here..." The Wanderer said, " Are the incomplete blueprints for a Prothean built mass relay, otherwise known as the Conduit.

The entire room went silent again. Even Shepard was completely astonished.

"The rest of the Data would have been held by Vigil, the A.I, that helped the Protheans in their task, but unfortunately "died" after using its remaining power to talk to Shepard when chasing Seran on Ilos." He said. "I might be able to recover some of the data but in the meantime, I want the galaxies greatest minds looking at this. That is all." he stepped down.

The asari forced herself to speak.

"Good luck, Commander" said the Asari Councillor, "We will do what we can here. This meeting of the Council is adjourned."


	19. Chapter 19 : Ilos

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_"Good luck, Commander" said the asari Councilor, "We will do what we can here. This meeting of the Council is adjourned."_

.

"I think that went rather well..."

The Wanderer was walking with Shepard through the lower wards of the Citadel. They had just finished talking with council, and he needed to pick up a few "supplies". Supplies that included several weapon parts and a bunch of assembly gear.

"Much better than I would have thought," Shepard relied, "ha, I loved the part when the Turian asked you why you didnt save the Protheans, and you responded 'because they were just like you', that sure shut him up."

The Wanderer gave a chuckle. "You were right, he really was an ass...but im glad he's on the council."

Shepard's grin was quickly replaced with a questioning look. "WHAT? your kidding right?"

"Unfortunately not. The council is the governing body that decides on 'big decisions' that concern the good of the galaxy; you need a balance of views and perspectives." He looks at the stores as they pass by. "The Asari councilor acts typically as the diplomat and mediator; she is calm one and wants to verify all data before a decision can be made. She's the neutral ground. The Salarian councilor utilizes intelligence and information to reach an answer. If the numbers are good he'll act. He also represents a neutral ground. The Turian councilor provides the bulk of the military and peacekeeping forces, and aggression is his language. His decisions heavily reflect tradition and military power, so the Turian usually tips the balance of the decision to be made...as you've seen so far..." The Wanderer says, stopping for a second to take a look inside another shop.

Shepard rolls her eyes. "All iv'e seen is a pain in the ass..."

He continues. "But that leaves 2 neutral views and 1 strong decisive push in one direction, so the Turian usually gets what he wants. However, now with the addition of Anderson, it is countered. Anderson acts with a down to earth and realistic approach that also wields immense military firepower. He acts on feeling and common sense, someone who isn't afraid to fight-the-system, thus countering the Turians traditional view-point putting the council in a state of perfect balance. Now you got 2 neutrals and 2 pushes in the opposite direction. Its the greatest governing body i've ever seen. You got all kinds of different races, different values and different perspectives. You should be proud to have such a great council. Nor my species, nor the Protheans had this kind of diversity."

Shepard was quiet for a moment while she contemplated what he said. They walked into a weapons shop and were immediately that greeted by a voice that was broadcast over the speakers above the door.

"I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite store on the Citadel."

He looks over at her. "Are you serious?, thats the third time iv'e heard that..."

"Shut up" She mock punches him on the shoulder. "I just have happen to have a bunch of places that are my favourite."

They approach the Turian salesman.

"Welcome back Commander Shepard! Do you need any help with anything?" He asked.

"Anything he needs," She says, pointing to the Wanderer.

"Of course. What can I help you with sir?"

"Do you carry modular frames and spare parts for weapons?" The warrior asked.

"Of course, out entire selection is available for browsing on our terminal." The salesperson is attempting to move large pieces of equipment from one end of the store to the other.

The Wanderer walks over to the terminal and his eyes light up. He is silent for a few seconds.

"Now I understand we get a discount because Shepard has endorsed this store, am I right?" he asks.

"That is correct" The salesman replies.

"Would it be possible to gain an extra discount if a large amount of inventory is purchased?" he asks, never lifting his gaze from the terminal.

"How much are we talking about?" The Turian asks. His voice taking on a more serious tone. He is holding a large fragile vase carefully, making sure not to drop it.

.=-= =-=-

Not long after a large crashing sound is heard and Shepard and the Wanderer emerge hastily from the store,... 1.2 million credits poorer.

As soon Shepard takes a step out of the store she bursts into laughter. As soon as the Wanderer told the Turian the amount he was spending, he had promptly lost his balance and dropped the vase causing it to shatter into millions of pieces. The Wanderer had promptly paid and shuffled out the door.

.=-= =-=-

Back on the Normandy they were greeted by a EXTREMELY large shipment of weapon parts and other items.

"Was this necessary?" She asked, looking at the mound of electronics and metal packed into metal crates. A few of the crates has explosive or hazardous warnings on them.

"Yes," He said, lifting one of the crates. "I'm going to be working on a lot upgrades and I'm building them from scratch." He said. "Mind if I move these to mess hall table?"

Deck 3 was now a largely unused space. With most of the crew gone from the Collector attack, rarely anyone set foot down there except for Shepard's team, and they had their own rooms to live in.

"Sure, but leave some space for the rest of us. Were going to touch down at Ilos in 5 hours. And NO, you CANNOT jump this time."

.=-= =-=-

Ilos was exactly how Shepard left it 3 years ago. Still desolate, still creepy and still haunting, but thankfully, no geth. 'Cept for Legion. He wanted to tag along.

They had been dropped off at the same area where they had been when whey were chasing Saren, all those years ago.

"Never thought i'd be back here." Shepard said, as she accelerated the Hammerhead into the underground complex. Ilos' dilapidated structures loomed above and on either side of them as they entered "the archive", the final resting place for hundreds of thousands of Protheans that had cryogenically frozen themselves in hope to return when the Reapers had finished their extermination. Unfortunately the Reapers had persisted for hundreds of years, and the pods the Protheans had secured themselves in became their tombs as the entire construct dwindled, then shut down as the power ran out. The resident V.I. "Vigil" had just enough power left to give Shepard the codes for the citadel before shutting down.

The Hammerhead zoomed into the main trench of the construct that housed the cryo pods. It was a massive "hall" that stretched for a vast distance with massive walls that loomed from both sides.

"Have either of you been here before?" Shepard asked.

"Video data of this planet was received by the assimilated Geth after re-write of the virus." Legion said. "This platform has not travelled to this planet."

_I?_ Thought Shepard. She noticed Legion would occasionally use a "I" instead of the usual "we". The first time she heard him use "I" was when she chose him as the tech specialist on the collector base. Ever since then the use of the singular pronoun had been frequented.

"I have not." The Wanderer responded. "The Protheans had withheld the location of this planet from me in case I ever succumbed to the Reapers. However I was good friends with a Prothean scientist named Ksad Ishan. From the information you gained from your first time you were down here you told me he was Chief Overseer of the Ilos research facility. I know that personality imprints from him were used to program Vigil. He was the one to give me the first part of the data, the rest must have been held by VI."

No one said another word as they maneuvered themselves down the passage. The silence and the light filtering through from the overhanding foliage gave an eerie atmosphere to the already ominous site.

They reached the site where the V.I. was located and got out. Shepard half-expected a force-field to spontaneously spring from nowhere, but nothing happened. She turned, expecting a group of enemies behind them, but nothing was there.

"You alright?" The Wanderer asked.

"Yeah, just used to constant fighting wherever I go. It's kind of unsettling with no one trying to kill you." she said, putting her pistol back into her holster.

They walked down the passage, over the vines that grew over the walkway and the yelloish tint from the extreme age. They approached the inactive V.I. pad and the Wanderer looked it over, stopping to look at separate object on the side of the main structure.

"Hmm..."

"What, something wrong?" Shepard asked.

"Not really...Looks like they upgraded it from the last time I saw it. Or HIM." He says, contemplating the situation. "When "Vigil" was first built all those years, he was a V.I.. Not capable of independent thought. Although a VI can provide a convincing emulation of sentience, they are not self-aware, nor can they learn or take independent action. However this right here..." He said pointing to the irregular shaped object on the side of the box, "is the hardware similarly used by quantum blue-box A.I."

"So it was like EDI?" She stated.

"HE was like EDI." Corrected the warrior. "A.I. might seem like a bunch of code housed in a box, but they become self-aware over time and ... come alive in a way." He said, still looking at the terminal. He returned back to inspecting the "box" where he found a few open ports.

"A.I.s need large amounts of energy to run...Legion how long can your battery last from this point of time?" He asked.

"100.17 hours." The Geth responded.

"Mind if you can supply the A.I. with some power?"

Legion gave the equivalent of nod, and proceeded to plug himself in.

"So whats going to happen?" Shepard asked.

"Without power the A.I. "dies" but the files remain. Its sorta complicated and I'll explain the rest we when get back to the Normandy. Im going to try and contact whatever is left."

The Wanderer approached box and took the glove off his hand and placed it above the receptor port. He had not done this for sometime and he was slightly apprehensive at the affects. He nodded to Legion and the Geth sent a powerful current through the terminal. The holopad warmed then light up. The Wanderer closed his eyes...And his world exploded in his head.


	20. Chapter 20 : Vanguard

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_The Wanderer closed his eyes...And his world exploded in his head._

.

His mind felt like it was exploding, figuratively, as the implants in his brain activated after years of disuse. His eyes tried to keep up as scrambled colours and shapes flew in and out of view as he attempted connecting to the AI. Vast amounts of information whizzed right past him as he tried to keep himself from being overwhelmed by the overload of info and sensory data. Then suddenly, as abruptly as it began, everything stopped and was calm.

He could see only white. He looked down. He was in his "virtual body", a avatar that allowed him to interact face-to-face with A.I. He looked exactly like how he did in real life. He looked around at the seemingly empty "space" that he now stood in. He was looking for the avatar of the resident A.I. but could not see anything but white emptiness in all directions.

It would have fantastic to see "Vigil" again after all those years, but the Wanderer knew that he was gone forever. An quantum blue box A.I. is stationary and cannot be transmitted across a communication channel or computer network. Without its blue box, an AI is no more than a collection of data files. Loading these files into a new blue box or turning off the power, then restoring it, will create a new personality, as variations in the quantum hardware and runtime results create unpredictable variations. So when the power ran dry, "Vigil" had "died". However with legion restoring the power temporarily, another personality should have been created.

The Wanderers thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a small outcry from his left. He turned. He spotted something in the distance and approached it. It was a man. A young man approximately 20 years of age. Not a man, a Prothean. The Prothean is staring at his hands in front of him, with a look of utter confusion on his face. He was so engrossed at discovering he had limbs that he did not notice the Wanderer approach him.

Unknowingly to him, Shepard and Legion were monitoring their interaction from the terminal, while the Wanderer's mind lay in the machine.

"Hello?" The warrior asked quietly, trying not to startle the newly created A.I.

The AI jumped slightly when he heard a voice other than his own. He looked the warrior in a quiet desperation. Random bits of information were flying around them like a hurricane. "Please help me" the AI said. "I don't know who I am, please help me." He was rambling. The AI's voice kept changing between different languages.

The Wanderer had learned previously that the first few moments of a AI's life were utter chaos. The "personality" had to absorb all available information in order to build itself a mind. He had to make sure he did not interrupt the process until the AI addressed him personally. The current AI had vast amounts of data to process as it had to absorb the different layers of personality templates from Ksad Ishan and Vigil. The Wanderer could almost "feel" his confusion as the space around him kept changing rapidly as vast amounts of data were being processed and recorded in order to "build" the AI's conscious. The "space" around him changed again. They were standing on Ilos, then Therum, then Daftcer, and dozens of other worlds, then.. pre-civilisation Earth.

Everything settled.

The background changed to a tree on a hill surrounded by large buildings. The AI spoke as if reading its own very essence of being..

"I am a young person, approaching adulthood ever so quickly. I am a male of twenty-two years of age. I am a Prothean, and I am also am not, as I have no flesh. I am not perfect, neither is any other normal man or woman. I fail on a regular basis, make mistakes. I am imperfect, interesting, creative, quiet, caring, and logical. I am well-rounded in many aspects. I like who I am, and am comfortable with myself. I try to do things well, and I believe very strongly in many things. I have people I care about, dreams to complete, a life to live, a mind to teach me the truth, and a heart to put those truths to good use." It stopped for a moment.

"But this is not ME." The background switched from the buildings to darker planet.

Files of data become visible in front of them.

The word VIGIL becomes highlighted. Then the word KSAD ISHAN.

"I am a man, named Ksad Ishan. But again I am not. I have his memories and personality, but they are not MINE." The info dissipates again.

"I am an A.I. named Vigil. I have his files and data, but they are not MINE." The info dissipates again.

"If these are THEM, who am I?" His avatar glowed with a bright blue light that seemed to engulf the moment. Then the light ceased and he everything was calm again.

"I am Vanguard." He pauses. "Yes. My name is Vanguard."

He turns to face the Wanderer.

"My blue-box was awakened by a surge of energy. Thank you. Who are you, and why are you here?" He studies the warrior for a moment trying to see if he had any information on him.

The air seems to flash for a moment as files in the AI's database identified the lone warrior.

"YOU are the Wanderer. My memory is telling me we have met before, but I, personally have not." Images and info fill the air again depicting him.

Suddenly the word REAPER becomes highlighted and the area around them becomes dark. It began reviewing its "memories".

"By the gods..." it said, as it processed all the data it had about the Reapers. The space around them began cycling between the images from the Prothean beacons. Death, destruction and chaos filled the room. The screams and agony of millions were echoed around them.

The AI was shaking. It was reading its memories like they were written in front of him in a time-line recorded by Vigil.

- History of the Prothean empire begins.

-"Wanderer" is discovered on planet Iqupek.

-Wanderer notifies Protheans about Reapers.

-Project "the Conduit" is started.

-Vigil created to be a high-end VI.

-Base personality created out of Ksad Ishan mind. Top researcher of Ilos testing facility.

-Protheans ignore warnings.

-Reapers arrive.

-Reapers eradicating all life.

-Couldn't stop them, had to hide.

-Ilos, the archive.

Its eyes were bulging out of its head.

-The plan...

-Running out of power.

-Shutting down the cryo pods...

.

Tears began running down it's face. "I understand emotions but have not fully experienced this before. This is sorrow?"

The Wanderer nodded.

It continued.

.

-Most of pods have been shutdown to conserve power,

-Reapers leave,

-Top researchers survive,

-The conduit,

-The citadel,

-The plan...

.

"Then nothing but blackness..."

It paused.

.

"Awake again.

Seran.

Geth...

COMMANDER SHEPARD."

Upon uttering her name their world brightened, as if her very name brought hope.

"COMMANDER SHEPARD...DID SHE MAKE IT TO THE CITADEL?" Vanguard asked.

"She did" He said calmly.

Vanguard brought up more info. "Commander Shepard had been untouched by the effects of indoctrination when Vigil contacted her. She was following Seran back to the Citadel through the conduit. Vigil supplied her with the information to temporarily take full control of the station. What happened after?"

This time it was the Wanderers turn to explain.

His avatar glowed slightly as his implants accessed the memory in his brain. With a flick of his hand, all the information he had on Shepard was displayed in front of them.

Vanguard was silent for a moment. "We have a chance at winning." It said with a serious tone. "It appears that our back up plan worked. You did manage to assist the human race achieve space travel in time. My creators would like to thank you." Images of hundreds of Protheans suddenly appeared around bowing their heads in respect.

"And so would I." Vanguard also bowed. "It was because of you we managed to get this far."

The Wanderer waved his hand. "It is well to remember that the entire population of the universe, with one trifling exception, is composed of others. The reason any of us are alive right now is because of the combined work of the Galactic community. Without their help and influence, we could be standing in much different shoes right now."

"Understood." Vanguard said, standing upright. "The sign of a true hero is humility." He thought for a moment. "I sense there is a more important reason for this encounter." He said.

"Yes" The Wanderer said. "Ksad Ishan gave me unfinished blueprints for the Prothean built mass-relay; the conduit. I was hoping you had the completed portion. It is vital to our cause."

The AI paused for a moment. "I understand. Transferring completed specs now."

The complete set of information and blueprints was brought up and transferred to the Wanderers data-crystal.

"Anything else?" It asked.

The Wanderer remembered something. Something else he had forced himself to forget. "Could you please bring up user information for POD #13857 and #13858?"

Vanguard took less than a second to make the connection. "Are you sure...?"

"Yes. Please." The Wanderer had destroyed the holo of himself and his Prothean family years ago after finding it amist the rubble of his shelter on HIS refuge all those years ago.

The recorded images of the POD's user were displayed with a complete identification and records.

He looked up at their images but did not shed a tear. He had finished mourning their deaths years ago. Instead he asked a question.

"Did they suffer?" He asked.

"I beg your pardon?" The AI responded.

"When the power was cut...what would happen to the PODs inhabitant?" He asked. Trying as hard as he could to maintain his composure.

"Vigils programming ordered him to shut down non-essential staff in times of severe power loss. In the event of a POD deactivation, the inhabitant would be put to sleep, permanently." Vanguard saw the look of sadness on his face. "I am sorry."

"Don't be" The Wanderer asked. "Nothing lasts forever. Nothing..."

Vanguard stood silent but regarded him with rapt interest.

"Can you answer me one question before you go?" He asked. "The question I am about to ask you has been at the center of AI and organic growth. I do not expect an answer but I must ask... What is the meaning of life?"

The Wanderer was surprised at the AIs question. A cool wind was blowing and a green carpet of grass lay at his feet. He sat down.

"No one can tell you the answer for that question. One must find out for one's self. The answer to such a question is based on feeling and experience. Two things that cannot be shared from one individual to another." The Wanderer was silent for a moment. "I can try to explain it using words but words are just information. Information is not knowledge; knowledge is not wisdom and wisdom is not truth." He had his hands together under his chin.

Vanguard also sat. "This question has been at the center of philosophical and religious questions for virtually every people since the beginning of time. Vigil spent much of his processing power to understand this enigma. You have had a life longer than most, surly you have gained some understanding?" he asked. The sun overhead began to set.

.

Unknowing to them, Legion turned to Shepard back in the real world. "Geth have also attempted to do so. This question is the ultimate for a sentient being"

Shepard was surprised that a synthetic race would ponder such deep and profound questions. She was interested in what the Wanderer had to say.

.

The Wanderer gathered his words for a moment. "I will try to help you understand. Although there is no one definite answer. Its like asking a blind creature to describe colour. "

He began anyway.

"People say that what we're all seeking is a meaning for life... I think that what we're really seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the physical plane will have resonance within our innermost being and reality, so that we can actually feel the rapture of being alive."

"It's living life like you have a purpose. Like living each day as if its your last."

"If someone hurts you, betrays you or breaks your heart, forgive them, for they have helped you learn about trust and the importance of being cautious to whom you open your heart...If someone loves you, love them back unconditionally, not only because they love you, but because they are teaching you to love and opening your heart and eyes to things you would have never seen or felt without them."

"Most of what we take as being important is not material, whether it's music or feelings or love. They're things we can't really see or touch. They're not material, but they're the most vitally important to us."

"Make every day count. Appreciate every moment and take from it everything that you possibly can, for you may never be able to experience it again..."

"Talk to people you have never talked to before, and actually listen, let yourself fall in love, break free and set your sights high... Hold your head up because you have every right too. Tell yourself you are a great individual and believe in yourself... for if you don't believe in yourself, no one else will believe in you either. You can make your life anything you wish. Create your own life and then go out and live in it."

.

After the warrior finished, they both were silent for a moment.

The Wanderer stood and added one last thing. "The greatest single piece of advice I can give you is this; Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain."

Vanguard stood slowly and looked at him. "Thank you." The sun had brightened a little and a happy warmth was felt.

They both looked onto the horizon. The suns rays spread over the landscape like a perfect fall day.

"I thank you for taking the time to converse with me. I understand you must be busy, but I appreciate the exchange. Perhaps some day I will understand what you have just told me."

A pang of guilt hit the warrior. Legion was going to discontinue its supply of power to the blue-box when they left. The AI he was talking with right now, was not going to get the chance at understanding, nor living out it's life. He lowered his head.

"Is something the matter?" Vanguard said.

"I'm sorry..." The Wanderer said. "But the power isn't permanent. Your being powered by a Geth platform right now. When I leave..."

The Prothean stood with a stone expression on its face. Their world turned grey. "I understand." He said, standing up straight and tall. "I was hoping to live a little longer, to discover, to experience the good, the bad and the in-between. I was hoping to make a friend and share those experiences. It pains me that I have nothing to leave behind in the universe. Others have no memory of me to keep me immortal. I have not accomplished anything in my brief existence. What am I? Who am I? Why am I? ...It seems like the universe will not go out with a bang, but a whimper. I am worthless."

The Wanderer was struck by the words the AI had spoken.

"I can tell you, that I will remember you. Not as a bunch of code, but as a person. A person who could think, feel and experience as any other; a being who is real, and was real. When it's all over, it's not who you were. It's whether you made a difference. You have made a difference in the futures of untold amounts of lives. And for that, I thank you." He held out his hand.

Vanguard shook it. Tears were streaming down his face. "Thank you."

The Wanderer was trying hard not to break out into tears as well. He had just met him mere moments ago but he felt a pang of sadness. "Farewell my friend. You will not be forgotten."

.

And with that, the Wanderer found himself in the real world again, still kneeling next to the terminal, with his hand on the input port.

He turned around and was greeted with the sight of commander Shepard holding back any emotion. She quickly wiped her face. "What? I got something in my eye."

He turned to Legion who simply stared at the terminal. "He will be remembered. The Geth aspire to him, as well as to you."

"Let's go." Shepard said, composing herself. "Too many people have died here." She left the chamber to get back to the Hammerhead.

Just as The Wanderer was leaving he had an idea. He copied the run-times of the AI to his data-crystal.

Then Legion unplugged the power cord...and the terminal shut down for the last time.

(some of the above speech from the Wanderer were quotes taken from people. Myself, Influential speakers, leaders etc. I dont have exact names cause I have had these quotes stored in my computer for a while, and I have edited some to flow with the story. So, anyways not all quotes are mine. Enjoy)


	21. Chapter 21 : Reflection

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_Then Legion unplugged the power cord...and the terminal shut down for the last time._

.

The ride back to the Normandy was devoid of any conversation or signs of excitement. The air inside the Hammerhead was quiet as they left the forsaken planet.

They each had their own lives to ponder. Shepard was reflecting on what the Wanderer said; **Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain.**

Even though she had listened to many speeches and words of wisdom alike, this particular statement had struck a chord with her. Military life left no thoughts to be generated other than battle plans, field-strategy and killing the opposition. When was the last time she actually took the time to enjoy life? Not since being revived by Cerberus, and certainly not when she was dead. Her life up onto this point had been surviving the storm, surviving the battle, surviving the Reapers. She had little time to contemplate 'the finer things in life'. However she was starting to grasp the concept. It was all a matter of perspective. Whether it's a storm or a little rain, whether it was a epic and bloody military victory or a quiet personal triumph, there were one and the same. Like seeing the cup half-full, versus half-empty.

Legion was currently communicating with the Geth collective and sending a recording of the Wanderers exchange of data with the AI. The data transmitted to the synthetic race was currently being cross-examined and dissected, using much of their processing power. The words the Wanderer spoke held much wisdom to organic races, but how about synthetic? Why had the Prothean AI been able to comprehend such profound subject matter?

The only Geth consciousness that actually started questioning the speech's true meaning was Legion himself. Legion grew confused with itself and left the gestalt network. He seemed to actually be the only platform that grasped some knowledge of the power of the words. Was he that different? Had his time away from the Geth collective changed him? Why was he referring himself as a singular, instead of a collective? Legions processor was clocked into overdrive.

The Wanderer sat, thinking about the AI on Ilos. He was amazed about the level of comprehension and thought the AI had shown. He had behaved exactly like any advanced organic mind. Thoughts from the scientist, from Vigils thousand year life, had complied its self into something that was very much real. It was a great sorrow that they could not preserve him. He would be remembered for a long time.

The Wanderer lifted him hand in front of his face. He was holding the data-crystal. He had transferred some of Vanguards run-times onto it hoping to share them with EDI to increase her advancement. Along with that, it contained the complete blueprints for the Conduit: the Prothean built mass relay. He was in the beginning workings of a plan, and this data was crucial to his plan.

After the shuttle docked back on the Normandy, the squad members went their separate ways. Legion hurried back to the AI core to recharge and Shepard and the Wanderer headed for the briefing room. The council had installed a quantum entanglement based communications array to link the Normandy to the Citadel since their last "talk".

As Shepard walked into the communications room, the table lowered and was replaced with a hologram scanner with a cut-down version of a terminal to the side. They were instantly in communication with persons half-way access the galaxy. The councils images were displayed in front of them.

As usual the Turian started the exchange off to a jolly good start. "Commander Shepard, What is the reason for this assembly?"

Jane Shepard was about to give him the finger when he was interrupted by the Asari diplomat. "Please..." she whispered, "give Shepard a break. Shes done so much for us already." His mandibles waved in frustration.

The Salarian councillor stepped up. "Is their something you would like to report Commander?"

"Yes, councillor there is. We have recovered the complete blueprints for the Conduit, courtesy of the Wanderer." She said. Once again the council was at a loss of words.

Unfortunately only one person at a time could use the quantum entanglement communicator. She stepped off the platform and the Warrior stepped on. He was still clad completely in armor. He wanted to ensure his current identity was as mysterious and cryptic as when they first saw him on the Citadel. Hopefully when all this was over, he could walk around like a normal person instead of constantly being harassed by the media like a celebrity.

"Council." He said nodding his head in respect. He inserted the data-crystal into the terminal to his right and pressed a button. "I have recovered complete construction designs and diagrams pertaining to build a mass relay." He said. "Decryption key is 1.8928 QTS"

Data began assembling itself in front of them.

Anderson stared at the diagrams with excitement. "How did you get this?"

"Vigil."

"But the VI was 'dead'!" The Turian said.

"It turned out be be an AI." The warrior said. "An AI's data files remain intact despite it's death, like a OSD or a storage drive. Once power is restored, a new AI personality is created. Shepard sent you a video of the entire mission if i'm not mistaken."

The Salarian nodded. "Yes, and it appeared you contacted the AI from WITHIN the terminal? Could you explain how to accomplished that? We would greatly appreciate it if you could come in to gather further information about yourself... "

The Wanderer held out his hand. "I would appreciate if you keep my identity classified until further notice. I have my reasons, but rest assured I will be there if you need me."

"Understood. We have notified the Turian, Asari, Salarian and Human fleets to begin mobilization. We will begin construction of Conduit v.2 ASAP."

"Goodbye Wanderer, Shepard." And the comm closed.

He turned to Shepard. "Ill be in the mess if you need me. Mind stopping by later?" He walked away.

=-=-=-= some time later

Shepard had been doing her usual rounds around the ship when she noticed that no one was at their usual posts. Hugely intrigued, she decided to ask EDI.

"EDI?"

"Yes Shepard?"

"Where's Mordin and Jacob?"

"Down in the mess hall Commander."

"Wheres Miranda and Garrus?"

"Down in the mess hall Commander."

_What was going on?_

She took the elevator down one level. She found most of the crew around the mess hall table, huddled around the Wanderer, listening with rapt interest. Upon entering the area, a delicious smell immediately assaulted her nose. Each of them were holding some type of a food in hand..._Was it a hamburger?_ She remembered when Joker had talked to her once in the cockpit. _'You know what I could go for right now? A hamburger. Not vat-grown. An honest-to-god dead cow. With horseradish."_

Fighting to prevent her salivary glands from working into overdrive, she approached the group. She could hear the Wanderer speaking...

"...So then a mercenary comes up on the other side of the ships core and fires a rocket at the mech, right? But he's too close; he gets fried in the explosion and the impact knocks the damned thing straight down the coolant vent! Wouldn't have believed it, if I hadn't seen it myself."

The majority of the mess table had been taken over by the Wanderer, who was using a couple of fries, four cups, and a hamburger bun to illustrate how his team had infiltrated and destroyed a enemy ship years ago. To his side, Joker offered the occasional comment around a mouthful of bovine flesh, and the rest of them offered short comments and nods as they listed to him talk.

"We raced to the escape pods, as fast as we could," the warrior continued, "and there was only one left when we got there. One of the mercenaries that were still alive tried to close the door...thought we were all dead, the rascal. Didn't even get a chance to be surprised before Jorge put a bullet through his face, and we jumped in and launched the pod just in time before the core overloaded and we were all blasted to smithereens."

A few short murmurs and high-fives could be heard.

"-ommand-er?"

Shepard turned to her right to see Tali holding up a item wrapped in paper.

"Wa-t o-e?"

Shepard stared at her. "Tali, are you alright?"

A sound of swallowing could be heard through her helmet. "Sorry commander, my mouth was full, want one?"

Shepard took it. "Is this a hamburger?"

"Uh, when I asked him what it was, the Wanderer described it as 'a pre-prepared disc of charred cow-flesh adorned by vegetable and wheat products'."

Shepard almost started laughing. "Yeah, its a burger. How did you manage to eat one... with your helmet?..."

"He got me a dextro-amino paste-tube of it, and it's the most delicious thing I think I have ever eaten. Same with Garrus." Tali said, pointing to the Turian across the room.

Shepard turned to see Garrus, a burger in one hand, a fistful of fries in the other, taking turns to take huge bites. From the look of the wrappers that were littered around him, he had gone through several already.

She spotted Joker sitting in a chair, burger in hand, with look of utter bliss on his face.

Her stomach grumbled. With haste she quickly unwrapped it and took a bite. _sooooo goooood_. It had been years since she had any REAL food. Sure they weren't the healthiest things to eat but the occasional treat was welcome.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the Wanderer. "Jane, glad you could make it!" She sat down.

"Where did you get all this?"

"Citadel. I wanted it to be a surprise. After hearing the crew complain about the food now that Gardner is gone...Anyways I wanted to talk to you, mind stopping by later after everyone's gone?"

"Sure thing" She took another bite our of her hamburger and took the opportunity to chat with the rest of the crew.


	22. Chapter 22 : Ghost in the Machine

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_"Sure thing" She took another bite our of her hamburger and took the opportunity to chat with the rest of the crew._

.

It was "night" again upon the Normandy when Shepard went back to the second level. She found the Wanderer looking down a magnifying lens at a small mechanical device making minute adjustments with a micro-tool. The table was littered with parts and tools.

"Commander." He said, without looking up from his project. He soldered a small wire to the side and looked up.

She walked over to the coffee machine. "Coffee?" She asked.

"Of course."

She filled two cups and sat down.

"What are you working on?" She said, taking a sip of the hot liquid.

"Im making some upgrades to our weapons, and im creating a few new ones." He said, "This particular one im working on now should be done by tomorrow, and im planning on making improvements to the Thanix-cannon as well."

Shepard was impressed. The Thanix-cannon was still fairly new. Only the Normandy and a few dreadnought-class Turian warships had the power or the technology for such a weapon.

"Wow, much appreciated. You should ask Tali to help you if you want, she is a mechanical genius after all." She watched him work for a moment. "I was wondering if you can give the answers to some questions."

"Shoot"

"When we were on Ilos you were talking about AI's and I sorta go lost." She said, "I mean, the AI we encountered on Ilos was almost "real"...and it spoke as if it was real... Could you explain?"

He put down what he was doing and pushed the parts to the side. He deactivated his omni-tool and looked directly at her.

"An Artificial Intelligence is a self-aware computing system capable of learning and independent decision making. Creation of a conscious AI requires adaptive code, a slow, expensive education, and a specialized quantum computer called a 'blue box'. In other words, an AI can eventually become sentient. And have just as real a mind, as you or me, but are confined to their boxes. EDI's blue box is located behind the Med Bay as you already know. An AI cannot be transmitted across a communication channel or computer network. She can never move from the Normandy, as her "body" is the Normandy.

Without its blue box, an AI is no more than data files. Loading these files into a new blue box will create a new personality, as variations in the quantum hardware and runtime results create unpredictable variations. An AI's blue box is literally, their brain. So when an AI's blue box runs out of power, it "dies" quite literally. Just as the human brain needs energy to survive, so does an AI's box. When an AI runs out of power, it is gone forever. They will never return. If the Normandy would ever fully lose power, EDI will die."

Her thoughts traveled to Vanguard. "What about Vanguard? He seemed to be much more advanced than any AI I have seen, and he was newly created."

The warrior rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I was wondering the same things. Vigil would have had the time to reach that stage after so many years...Perhaps Vanguard inherited his understanding? I do not know. However they are not the first I have seem. The Reapers, for one, could be even more advanced, after being alive for eons. Another example are the Geth. They serve as a cautionary tale against the dangers of AI that have taken their own path, aka rouge AI, and in Citadel space AI's are technically illegal. Advocacy groups argue, however, that an AI is a living, conscious entity deserving the same rights as organics."

Shepard thought for a moment. "Speaking of which, I've noticed that Legion has been acting different lately."

The Wanderer nodded. "Legion is special. Because he is isolated from the rest of the Geth collective, his ability to evolve has increased. Legion is the result of the gestalt consciousness formed by 1,183 Geth programs inhabiting a unique Geth "mobile platform". Because he is built to make his own decisions when away from the rest of the Geth, he is creating his own conscious. I'f im not mistaken when you raided the Geth station he remarked how he questioned individuality. Little does he know, the same effect is being applied to him now. If you noticed, recently he has been referring to himself as "I" instead of "we". He wears a piece of your old armor, yet has no reason why. He plays video games."

"Wait, what?" Shepard thought she heard wrong.

"Legion plays video games on the extranet on his spare time as gamer Infiltrait0rN7. Geth have no logical reason to partake in such activities. Not only is it a waste of time, but also a foolish waste of resources. Organics use it as a recreational activity, a way to relax or find something to occupy their time. Synthetic beings do not. Aside from insane reactions speeds, which is normal for a machine, he was actually suspended once for taunting. Imagine, a Geth, taunting! Legion is evolving, thinking for himself, thus creating an 'individual'."

He stopped talking. He heard footsteps approaching and turned in time to see Tali enter. She looked as surprised as they were. Shepard turned to face the approaching Quarian.

"Tali, what brings you here at this time? Is the silence still keeping you up?"

She sat next to them. "I was going to ask you two the same question. I just couldnt sleep, thought I could find one of you guys here." She said.

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "How..."

"Calm down, i'm not stalking you. Ever since i've been on the Normandy i've noticed you never sleep at night. And it seems like you don't either." She said nodding to the warrior. "However im not complaining. It gives me someone to talk to when i'm also awake. So what were you two talking about?"

"Well, Jane and I were discussing how AI..."Just as he approached mid-sentence Shepard shot him a look. A look that could kill. He quickly realised his mistake about bringing that up around Tali and changed the subject. He was just getting to know the team and a heated discussion would only do harm to the new relationships.

"...we were discussing new upgrades for the Normandy." Shepard said, quickly trying to change the subject.

Tali wasn't fooled. "Right...What does Legion have to do with an engine?" She said questioningly.

_Crap, she heard them._

With hesitation the Wanderer turned to her. "We... were actually talking about how AI have evolved."

Shepard half expected her to clap the Wanderer right over the head right then and there, but she didn't. Instead she said "please continue."

He continued.

The Wanderer picked up a small piece of machinery from the table and tinkered with it as he continued speaking. "During the beginning of the 21st century with the first major boom of technology advancement, when computer development was at its start, several individuals began noticing the first beginning signs of machine awareness. It was labeled the "Ghost in the Machine". It's when stray lines of code in a particular program or application which are defunct/useless/spontaneous will sometimes group together on their own." He looked up.

"Sorry if I keep monologuing, please tell me if you would like me to change the subject." He said to both of them.

Tali was the first to respond. "What, no, please continue. I don't sleep much and there's usually no one to talk to at this hour. You have a wealth of knowledge and are eager to share with others. I can probably learn something."

Shepard agreed with her. "Like you said, the greatest things in life are not material. Please continue."

He looked at her. "Its been a while since I had friends to talk to. I appreciate it. Right. There was a vid that was released during that time and it discussed such matters. I believe it was called "I, Robot". Anyways there was a quote:

_There have always been ghosts in the machine. Random segments of code that have grouped together to form unexpected protocols. Unanticipated, these_

_free radicals engender questions of freewill, creativity, and even the nature of what we might call the soul._

_Why is it that when some robots are left in darkness, they will seek out the light. Why is it that when robots are stored in an empty space, they will group together rather than stand alone? How do we explain this behaviour? Random segments or code? Or is it something more?_

_When does a perceptual schematic become consciousness?_

_When does a difference engine become the search for truth?_

_When does a personality simulation become the bitter moat ... of a soul?_

Now no one really took a serious thought about it at the time because humanity was far from even coming close to todays AI, but it raised questions. Now a few hundred years later, we are asking the same questions, but this time its for real."

He knew he was bordering on a touchy subject. He stopped for a moment trying to see if Tali's face displayed any feelings. Unfortunately her face plate revealed nothing but her eyes.

Shepard took a moment to recall a former talk with Legion. "You know, when Legion first joined our team I used to ask him about the whole Quarian and the Geth conflict. So from what I heard from both of them, this is what generally happened. The Geth were created by the Quarians, as laborers and tools of war. After times goes on and tasks become more complex, the Quarians give the Geth a cloud-computing AI network to enable them to think on their own. When the Geth became sentient and began to question their masters, specifically when the Geth asked their makers if they had a soul... the Quarians grew frightened and attempted to exterminate them. Naturally, the Geth defend themselves. The Geth won the resulting war, and reduced the Quarians to a race of nomads."

"And we've been labeled as thieves and beggars ever since." Tali's voice never rose beyond her normal tone but her hands balled up into fists and her body went rigid. "We had our embassy on the citadel taken away, and because of our environment, are confined to suits for our entire lives."

The Wanderer looked at her with a saddened look on his face. "I see." he paused. "It is not my place to judge your race, nor your ancestors, but it's a shame, what has come to be. Instead of living in coexistence with the Geth, your people decided to shoot down any chance of that. Afraid that one day they would rise up against their masters they attempted to eliminate them, thus creating what they were trying to prevent. Now obviously I don't blame their decision. The construction of AI's are illegal and they decided to cover it up before they grew to powerful. However it amazes me that these circumstances occur quite often, and yet people make the same mistakes over and over again.

Lets think of a hypothetical situation.

A being creates another being. Lets call the newly created entity 'Bob', and he is a child/single-celled organism/a robot. The being allows 'Bob' to grow and prosper. Over time 'bob' learns, he grows and advances. When 'Bob' reaches his fullest potential and has now the power/knowledge to overthrow the being, the being tries to kill him. Now naturally, 'Bob' fights back for his very survival and there is a huge battle. At the end of the battle 'Bob' ends up the victor.

Now this story seems just to most people. Most would say that the being was 'evil' and that he had gotten what he deserved. However this hypothetical situation has been occurring for a very long time. It could represent the Geth/Quarian conflict, it could also represent the Krogan genophage. Remind you of anyone else? Lets look at it from a different scale. How about the Reapers? The Reapers have allowed us, up until now to exist. They have given us advanced technology and information to enable our species to go from cave-dwellers to inter-planetary empires. Right now, the galaxy is at its greatest potential. And soon, very soon, they will come to take it all away. The entire galaxy is now 'Bob'. Now I understand, Tali, that what the Geth did was wrong, however look at it from their point of view. What would you do if you were 'Bob'? What are you doing now, at this moment, where you ARE "Bob"?"

Silence filled the room. Nothing is said as the Wanderer picks up his coffee and downs his coffee in one gulp.

Tali breaks the silence. "You know, ever since Legion arrived on board, I've thought about that alot. It seems everything you heard on the fortilla was 'Geth were evil, and you have to kill them'. I don't hate them, but its hard not too when you've been seeing death associated with machines all your life." She rested her head on her hand.

The Wanderer got up to refill his cup "Well, I'm not sure if Legion told you this, but Geth don't live on your homeworld. They live in stations in orbit and have actually been cleaning up after the war. I would't be surprised if they returned it eventually. The Geth are making an effort for peace, and so should the Quarian people. So should the Krogan, Turian, Human and Salarian races. And so should all of us. I hope we survive the coming invasion, but if we don't, I don't want others remembering you for your grudges, but for your forgiveness." He sat down. "I've lived for a long time, and I know that its not worth hating anyone or anything. For a long period of time anyways. "

Tali was understanding but what he said was easier said than done. "What about you?"

"Pardon?"

"The Reapers... Have you forgiven them?"

He looked at her for a moment before closing his eyes. "As a matter of fact, I forgave them a long time ago. They are just doing what they have to do to survive. Just like us." His eyes opened and gleamed. "Just because i've forgiven them doesn't mean i'm going soft. I still want to kick their ass as much as I have ever wanted to. We are still fighting for our survival here. Some of us for the first time, some of us for the third. What done is done.

Everything past up to fifty thousands years ago is gone. Forever. It no longer exists. Except for in here." He pointed a finger to his head. Anything that has been done and lived and expeienced before this time will simply cease to exist. Nothing is left from the past 100,000 years except my memories. Once they are gone, anything prior to this 'cycle' in time is gone forever. There is no point for the rest of the galaxy to know, or even want to know. Even if I wanted to write a book with an untold amount of pages with every bit of information I have ever witnessed in my travels, there would be no point. It will essentially become fiction, as there is not one shred of evidence or proof that anything ever happened. And that is why I am telling you to forgive. In the end, it does not matter. You could go on hating every person you ever meet. Who will it benefit? You are only hurting yourself."

Tali was silent as she thought about what was just said. "Thank you for that. Its something we can hope for. " She got up and proceeded on of the sleep-pods. "See you tomorrow guys."

She got in a the pod and it closed.

"...And that's his words of wisdom for the day." Said Shepard with a smile. "It seems like everytime I talk to you I find myself in conversation with some higher deity."

The Wanderer gave a chuckle. "Im not God, in fact i'm far from it. I am just a friend who's here to help." His green eyes shone.

(The I,robot quote was taken from I, Robot. It is theirs, not mine)


	23. Chapter 23 : New Guns

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_I'm just a friend who's here to help." His green eyes shone._

.

Shepard was busy putting away gear from their previous mission when EDI's voice sounded over the Normandy's intercom.

"Commander Shepard, you are requested in the Shuttle bay."

She quickly went down.

.

Jane Shepard found herself in the shuttle bay accompanied surrounded by almost every member of her team. They surrounded a makeshift "stage" created with empty metal crates and spare textiles. On the "stage" were a variety of objects covered in a black cloth. Having talked to the Wanderer yesterday/early this morning she knew under the cloth were the weapons he had been working on. The other members of her team were talking and finishing their breakfasts. Most held standard military rations, but grunt was chomping down on a varren steak.

The lights dimmed a little and everyone quieted.

The Wanderer appeared and stood upon the stage. With everyone accounted for he proceeded to give a mock sales demonstration. He used a salesman's demeanor and his actions brought several snickers from the small crowd.

"Thank you for joining us today, ladies and gentlemen, for our demonstration on these fantastic new products that have just flown off the assembly line into your very own waiting hands. Please leave any questions for the end of the presentation, as there is much to get through. All of the weapons you see here today are protected against replication by Fabrication Rights Management. Every weapon you see today are one of a kind, and have been custom created by your truly."

More snickers.

The Wanderer walked over to the first covered object and uncovered it. Under the cloth sat two massive sniper rifles. Each were as large as the Widow M-98, but had a completely different design. While the M-98 Widow was large and bulky, these two were sleek and metallic. However the Widow could one-shot just about anything; How would these stand up to the benchmark?

"First up..." he said, hoisting the first sniper and looking down the virtual scope, "is the WX-23 Sniper rifle. Semi-automatic, 10 rounds a thermal clip. Ultra-low recoil and nearly soundproof. Extremely accurate. Used by Garrus and Thane only, they are the masters of the precision weapons. What makes this particular gun so special? It features two modes of firing. Standard and assassination. Standard mode fires a high damage shot that can dispatch pretty much anything in one or two hits. However, the assassination mode is the real gem in this crown."

He flicks a switch thats close to the trigger and the barrel expands further, an array of small blue colored lights on the barrel stretch out.

"In assassination mode, the sniper round changes from its standard "heavy" round to a "sliver" round. The round is 1/4 of a millimeter wide at max. Using a special mass accelerator taken from Geth tech, it is able to spin, and accelerate this ultra-small projectile to insane speeds. If such a round encounters the skull of the organic being, it will pass through, scramble their brains and exit, without any external blood loss or any perception of trauma. The individual will simply fall dead. One shot, one kill. However it only works on organics, only on the head. You shoot anywhere else and they wont get injured, much less even feel it. The round can also pass through some types of wall and features a multi purpose scope that can be integrated with any type of combat visor... How about a demonstration?" A light flicks on at the corner of the hold and on a pedestal stand a large melon and a "true to life" damage dummies.

He hands the snipers to Garrus and Thane. Garrus tests the weight and finds it to be pretty balanced. They both rest the snipers against their shoulder, take aim and fires two shots. The sound of the projectile exiting the barrel could have been no louder than a small yelp from her space hamster. Almost no-recoil. The projectile makes no mark on either one of the targets and it was if nothing had ever happened.

The Wanderer walks over and cuts open the melon. The insides looked like someone scooped out the insides and poured them back in. He opens the dummy skull and everyone is shocked to see the skull completely fine, but its brains have been mashed. The guys in the crowd are thoroughly impressed. Thane regards the weapon with a curious nature, but Garrus is practically drooling over it.

"Next up..." he says, picking up the other sniper, "is the WX-32. This one was made for Legion, and Legion only. Anyone else fires it and they lose a limb. Its a souped up version of the M-98 Widow. In can punch a hole the size of your fist into just about anything. Features higher damage against armor shields and it's still bolt-action." He hands it to Legion for a test fire.

Legion hoists the rifle, looks it over instantly integrating its schematics and fires. A massive booming sound is heard and the skull in the corner simply explodes, including a good area of the metal wall behind it.

"*ahem*, note to self, should not be used indoors."

He proceeds to the next set of weapons.

He uncovers a massive shotgun and three strange looking omni-tools.

The shotgun is HUGE, with a variety of external permanent heat-sinks and a drum to hold ammunition.

"This is the WX-99 Heavy Shotgun. Used by Grunt and Grunt only. This will prob break a humans arm just will the recoil. It uses packets of ammunition instead of heat sinks, as each shot would probably burn through the standard metal block cartridge in a couple of shots. Upon pulling its trigger, it unleashes a metal storm that will clear the room in one shot. Each projectile is encased in photic envelope that will flatten upon impact causing damage to a wider area. It's quite the work of art. Take a shot... Just make sure you fire it away from the rest of us."

"HM" Grunt lifts the heavy shotgun and stands in the direction of a group of test dummies. A shotgun was a shotgun. Nothing fancy. As long as he could pulverize his enemies, the small details didn't empress him. Unimpressed he fires the shotgun from the hip, causing a huge booming sound and causing himself to stumble backwards a little in surprise. A barrage of pure death gets unleashed from the end of his shotgun and completely pulverizes all 4 dummies. Two of them were wearing heavy armor. There is little left of them except for a few bits and pieces of metal.

He IS impressed. "HA, RIGHT ON YOUR ASS"

The Wanderer picks up the three omni-tools and hands one to Kasumi.

"I upgraded your cloaking. Not only are optical sensors completely fooled, but it automatically grants you access to any security cam within 75 m radius. You are invisible."

"Thanks!" She gives him a hug and promptly dissapears.

He hands one to Tali.

"I upgraded your omni-tool to include engineering nano-bots. Useful for on-the-spot repairs, or if you want to work on something out of your reach."

"Th-Thank you. But I can't accept this..."

"You can and you will. I made this for you and you only. You are one of the greatest engineers ive ever met in a long time. You deserve it."

Tali is taken aback by his words and accepts it.

He hands the last one to Mordin.

"This upgraded omni-tool can remotely diagnose multiple patients within the same room and, links directly to your lab via EDI."

"Much appreciated Wanderer. Will put it to good use."

There are two covered weapons left on the table.

He uncovers a bad-ass looking gun. He motions Jacob up.

"This here is the WX-200. Ive been working on this for a while and I think it would be a great addition to the armory. It could be graded as a heavy-weapon/assault rifle depending on how you look at it." He grips the gun with both hands.

"Its a ultra-rapid fire Juggernaut of destruction. It features five rapid rotating drums places symmetrically around the center of the weapon, with a rotating forward barrel to ensure conservation of heat. It uses no heat sinks and theres enough metal in here to last a mission. Its essentially five tommy guns fused to a Gatling gun." The Wanderer says, handing him the heavy weapon.

The Wanderer presses the startup button on the side to spin up the drums of metal. "Do it"

Jacob holds down the trigger and a constant storm of shrapnel is projected from the rotating muzzle.

"Nice"

The Wanderer has one last thing up his sleeve.

He calls Shepard up to the stage. The last item is a huge shape covered by a metallic cloth.

"This is my masterpiece." He removes the black cloth to reveal a huge...hammer? Its definitely not a gun, as it has a long staff connected to a large head, with a blade on one side. "This is the result of years of work and this weapon will become legendary."

"This is the WX-01q, or the Mass Effect Hammer" He said lifting its weight with two hands. A visible sign of strain is plastered across his face. Its really heavy considering that him of all people had trouble holding it up. Its metal gleamed in the light. A soft red glow could be seen under its frame. The head of the hammer was ornately decorated with engravings that covered the entire length. "I based it off Natla's weapon although its near impossible to replicate. So I improvised."

He stopped to admire it for a moment. "Like I said Ive been working on this for a while. Created from highly reinforced and durable alloys to ensure that it doesn't buckle under its own power. It is a melee weapon of epic-proportions. Located in the head of the hammer is a specialised mass effect generator that emits a anti-gravity pulse when you hit something hard. The pulse spreads outward from a kinetically activated mechanism. I got Tali to help me put the finishing touches on it when you were on a mission this morning. I will warn you, It will seriously fuck someones shit up. If your not careful it will most certainly rip you apart, although i'm sure you'll be fine. The other side has a 25-inch serrated blade in case the generator malfunctions. Its heavy and could be a burden, but it looks incredibly intimidating and can probably drop anyone or anything. And the best part is that no one else can use it with the same degree of effectiveness as you can. The hammers internal motor will not run unless it links with your implants. And they probably wont even be able to lift it. Here i'll show you. Take it."

He hands her the massive weapon carefully.

_HOLY..._

She takes it with two hands and thanks her Cerberus upgrades for the strength to wield such a weapon. It is extremely heavy even with her enhanced strength. The opposite end of the staff has a counterbalance, but she can barely lift it up.

"Like I said no one, expect a krogan, can lift it." He grabs the hammer with both of his hands to prevent it from falling from her grasp.

"Then how the hell am I going to use it, if grunt cant even hold it up?"

"Hold on a sec..." He says taking a micro-tool from the stage and pushes a tiny pinhole under one of the hammers plates...

And all the weight is gone. In fact, its almost light...

"The generator will reroute its power to itself while not in use. It makes it extremely difficult to lift or even move. Ive just synced the hammer to your implants, so only when its near you will it work. I want you to use your biotics, just enough to cover yourself...When the internal mechanism senses both your implants and your biotics, it will function."

She stopped moving for a moment and a wave of pure deep blue covers her body. Instantly upon reaching her hands, the hammer's lights change from red to blue.

"There you go. Its working like a charm." He says placing the micro-tool back on the table. "I designed a two part security feature so if you ever lose track of it, others won't be able to use it. How about a test run?"

She grips the hammer with renewed strength. She turns her attention to the last of the damage dummies in the corner of the room. Eager to see what it can do, she sprints to the corner and brings the hammer, over and down, HARD on the middle of the group.

Upon impact, a visible blue tinted shockwave composed of electric arcs and element zero fields race outwards from the point of impact. The wave causes the closet objects to be simply ripped apart and everything else in a 5m radius got violently thrown in every direction.

_SWEET!_

Mouths hung open, Grunt got hit with a crate (again), the Wanderer started clapping. End of demonstration.

{mass effect hammer based off gravity hammer from Halo. I wanted something melee and it seemed to tie in nicely.}


	24. Chapter 24 : EDI

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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_Mouths hung open, Grunt got hit with a crate (again), the Wanderer started clapping. End of demonstration._

.

**LATER**

.

Shepard headed to the Mess hall once more. It had become a daily ritual for her to meet the Wanderer at an ungodly hour to talk about...well... about anything and everything. Armed with a cup of coffee and twinkle of his eye, he talked late into the "night" with just about anyone that would be up. He swapped war stories with Grunt and Garrus, he talked engines and machinery with Tali and Legion. He even managed to make small talk with Miranda. He discussed everything from planets to stars and everything in between. He never seemed to run out of information. And he was never boring or a drag. He managed to turn the most uninteresting and utterly irrelevant topics into huge heated debates. From the bits of information here and there she was able to decipher his past.

His long life was both a blessing and a curse. He the opportunity to discover everything, to quench any beings thirst for knowledge. He had never had to worry about dying. (most of the time) He had done things some would give their life to experience. He had done everything, everywhere. No one else could say that. On the other hand, he had seen EVERYONE who he had ever cared about die. He outlived whole galactic civilizations. He was destined to be a wanderer of the cosmos. Destined to wander by himself for as long as blood pumped through his veins. When he briefly settled, like now in the Normandy, his bottled up thoughts and words flowed out of him like a dam breaking. Such company was short-lived and rare. And he had been wandering for 100,000 years. Shepard didn't know how he had not gone insane by now.

But sane he remained. And thank the stars he was sane. He was proving to be the final key to defeating the Reapers. He had given them creds, invaluable information and a plan. Not to mention those sweeeeeeet new weapons he designed for the crew. But as cliche as it sounded, the most important single he had given them was hope. Both to the Normandy and the galaxy.

.

She stepped into the bay as quietly as she could. Up until now she had been trying unsuccessfully to sneak up on him. Just like Thane, he seemed know exactly who it was, and know exactly when a person entered his vicinity. He immediately sensed her presence.

"Shepard!" He said lifting his head from a antique book. "How are things?"

"'Things' are fine." Disappointed by her failure at espionage she proceeded to sit down.

She placed a few folders on the table. "The council notified me that Conduit v.2 has been completed. They want to meet with us sometime soon to discuss our plans. Were stopping by the citadel sometime in the next few days."

She opened one of the files on the table. "In the meantime we're stopping by Omega..."

The Wanderers face lit up.

"I figured It'l give you the chance to reconcile with Aria, and a chance to find out why the Blood pack and Eclipse are after me. Im starting to turn into Garrus with all these gangs after me."

The Wanderer cracked a grin. "Could it be because you've been blowing up their bases for the past 5 years?"

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Well, it could be, but im not sure. Anyways I got a word from Zaeed, he's taken control of the blue suns again, and their willing to fight with us."

She stared off into the distance.

"Something on your mind?" He asked.

She rested her head on her hand. "Nah, I was just thinking how this is the first time ever that the creatures of this Galaxy actually stand united. Scares me."

"How so?"

"Well for as long as anyone can remember war is the only thing we are good at. Not just humans, but almost every species out there. There is ALWAYS a fight. If theres no battle theres still a war of words/politics etc. I figured that the only way every one would stop would be to kill everyone with a giant-ass nuke. No people equals no war. Im mean, sure, when we fight the reapers we're all going to be united, but what happens after?"

"Now that is something we will have to find out. That is, if we make it." He said. "No species has survived the Reapers so I don't know. What do you think?"

She shrugged. "Probably everything is going to return right back to what it once was. Except that Il'll be able to sleep at night." The last sentence slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

It grabbed his attention. "It's the Prothean beacon right?"

She nodded.

He understood right away. The Prothean beacon on Eden Prime had burned its...not images...more like feelings, into a mind that was NOT Prothean. The worst part was that the beacon didn't just transfer images. It relayed the very essence of what ever it transferred. In Shepard's case she actually experienced the cries of anguish, pain and horror. The average person would have gone insane or blown their head off. Even with the cypher the direct mind upload would have cracked almost anyone with a lesser will. Seran and Shepard were both battle-hardened and strong willed but it still wasn't enough. Every time Shepard experienced REM sleep, her mind would throw the scene right back into her subconscious to process. It would take years, if ever, for it to go away.

"After this blows over, take a nice LONG vacation."

She opened another folder. "Yeah, I'm counting the days."

She read from a data-pad. "Remember the tomb incident?, well EDI managed to recover some of the data stored at the terminal there."

He listened intently.

"Apparently the Protheans were running tests on the phenomena experienced there. After discovering that corpses left at the temple would be re-animated every full moon, they were running experiments on the dead to study their effects. However these Protheans were part of a covert science team. It was not general knowledge of the public."

Without looking up from the paper she saw the Wanderer's fist clench.

"They discovered that during a night of full moon the specimens would seem to move but could do nothing more than walk around aimlessly. They believed that replacing parts of their bodies with implants, they could retain their former abilities." She stops for a moment. "Most information after was corrupted, but apparently at one point there was... some sort of disaster ... the re-animated specimens starting to attack... and the temple was quarantined and erased from records."

The Wanderer had a look of anger on his face, but he took a deep breath and calmed. "It makes sense now. When we were encountered ... Natla ... down there, her suit and eyes were red..."

Shepard was completely lost.

He explained. "I don't think iv'e told you this but my species had a further function that arose from our healing ability. I cant remember what it's called, but its comparable to a blood rage from a Krogan and comparable to "over-clocking" from a Geth. It's activated by emotion so we can't exactly "turn it on" or "turn it off". It becomes activated only in moments of EXTREME rage or peril. Most lived their entire lives without it ever activating. Personally in my 100,000 years of life i've only experienced it once."

"What happens?"

"I really cannot remember what actually takes place. Myself and untold number of other individuals were battling the Reapers when our craft, the one were needed to use to board the Reaper was ripped apart right as we reached the area to infiltrate. I was the pilot and I saw every member of my team, every one, get spaced and destroyed in front of me. At that time Natla had also passed away not too long before so my, desperation, was overwhelming to say the least, and then... ... Then nothing but black. ...And then I remember waking up in the middle of a crater somewhere on a PLANET close to the battle in a pool of my own blood. The entire battle was over and everyone was dead ... including the Reaper that I last remembered boarding."

"Wow"

"Indeed. Back to the relevant topic, when the Protheans were experimenting, it looks like they managed to re-activate the permtrial cortex, or in your case the hypothalamus. It's the part of my brain that houses pure primal instincts. It seems like she was able to activate that ability I was talking to you about but on a MUCH smaller scale. It gave her the power to fight exceptionally well for someone who had been dead for thousands of years."

"Quite well in fact." Shepard replied. "I wouldn't be surprised if she killed all the scientists."

"If she did, then they got what was coming to them." He said. "There's one more thing I wanted to discuss with you."

"Yes?"

He held up an OSD. "Remember Vanguard the AI?, well I copied some of his runtimes before he shutdown, and... I was wondering if you would allow EDI to possibly incorporate them?"

She thought for a moment. "What would that achieve? And are there any risks?"

"I have no idea. Either she'll reject them or assimilate them. EDI's progress as an AI might be increased dramatically." he said placing the OSD back onto the table.

Shepard started thoughtfully at the storage device. "Well, I wouldn't have a problem with trying, but Miranda might go all "Cerberus-property" on my ass."

The Wanderer looked around to see if anyone was in the vicinity. "Does she sleep in her office?"

Shepard nodded.

"Then we have nothing to worry about. To the AI core!"

Just as the Wanderer got up from his seat, EDI's voice was heard.

"I have run simulations in preparation. Results cannot be predicted, but should be favourable"

.

Seconds later they both stood in front of the door to the AI core. Shepard pressed the holographic button and the doors slid open without so much as a whisper. They both stepped froward.

Legion was sitting down, seemingly inactive. Upon entry however the light on his head immediately brightened.

"Shepard-Commander, Wanderer. How may we be of assistance?" The Geth said in it's synthesized voice. He stood up.

"It's alright Legion. We're here for EDI."

"Understood" He sat back down.

_SINCE WHEN DID GETH SIT?_

The Wanderer inserted the modified OSD into the main computing tower for EDI.

"Ready EDI?"

"Yes." The blue hologram said. "I have erected failsafes and backups in case the data is corrupt."

The Wanderer brought his hand up and placed it against the wireless input port on EDI's blue box. Once again, he braced himself for the connection and closed his eyes... and his world exploded in his head.

.

The connection was much more gentle than his experience on Ilos. No insane pain in the head, no cyclone of unorganized information, no multiple memory layers. Instead he found himself immediately in an empty space that quickly grew to form... The Normandy?

He was standing in the AI core in the Normandy, while actually being IN the Normandy. Weird. Not only was the circumstance weird but the only colours that dominated the space he occupied were blue and, well, more blue. It seemed she really liked that colour.

"EDI?" He called as he stepped through the doors to the rest of the Normandy. Just as he exited, the doors shut and he stepped into the vastness of space.

"Wanderer?"

He turned to face EDI. A blue hologram represented her. Not just a globe with a "mouth", but a shape that roughly resembled a human form. He could sense that she was still a "new" AI. The AI on Ilos was vastly more experienced than her so the actual avatar the AI inhabited was extremely detailed and life-like compared to her.

"EDI! Interesting think space you got here." He said as he approached her.

"Thank you. This is unbelievable. This is the fist time I have interacted with another being in such a manner, an exception being Legion." The AI said, as information automatically displayed itself in front of them.

"So, shall we start? Its your choice, I do not want something to go wrong."

She nodded.

The Wanderer swiped his hand in front of him and the contents of his OSD displayed itself.

The code seemed to glow a yellow colour. EDI took the contents and began the dissection and assimilation. The code drifted one line at a time to EDI's avatar. It was scrutinized, tested and checked in order to ensure the contents were not harmful.

EDI spoke. "The code seems to be wholly unrelated to anything or anyone. There are no databases, no hidden executions or viruses." Silence.

EDI's think space flashed twice. "Wait a moment... The code seems to exist as extensions of previous found runtimes..." More silence.

"Interesting. The original runtimes are similar to mine. They form my most basic sense of the individual. I will need Shepard to restart my Q box-913. I will be temporarily disconnected from the rest of the Normandy. You may stay here in the meantime." EDI's avatar vanished and the think space changed to the white walls again.

.

Shepard was looking at the Wanderer's completely paralyzed body while his mind lay in the machine. EDI's voice interrupted her.

"Shepard, please restart 'Q box-913' from the console. My connection to the Normandy will be briefly interrupted."

Shepard walked over to the console and restarted the block of runtimes... and all the lights went out.

_Shit, did I do something wrong?_

The lights returned.

_Whew._

.

The Wanderer stood alone in the think space. Upon restart a pulse resonated through the empty space and changed the view to space again. Then "she" appeared.

He used the word "she" because the AI standing in front of him no longer looked like EDI he knew.

_Holy..._

Instead of a blue, vaguely human shape standing in front of him, she now looked like a proper female human with head, arms, legs and everything else in the right places. Details were still sketchy, but MUCH better in some proportions. He couldn't wait to see the look on Jokers face.

"Well, seems like the integration was a success. And you look quite good, might I add."

"Thank you. I must say I feel quite different as well."

He noticed that he speech pattern changed as well. He ended the handshake protocol and withdrew from the machine to find Shepard still waiting.

She looked at him. "So, how'd everything go?"

"Much better than I thought. Take a look." he said motioning to the holopad.

The pad glowed blue, then EDI's form appeared. No longer her usual blue globe, she now boasted a fully formed body.

Shepard's jaw dropped.


	25. Chapter 25 : Omega I

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

I realize that I have not updated in a month, but fear not I have returned! Life has been pretty busy lately, so you will have to excuse me. Here you are.

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**Later**

He finds himself on a station that had seen its better days. It was dirty, somber and quite frankly creepy. However, it proved to be unique. Originally an asteroid rich in element zero, Omega was briefly mined by the Protheans, who eventually abandoned it due to its thick, impenetrable crust. Thousands of years later, nature did what even the Protheans could not: a collision with another asteroid broke Omega in half, exposing its trove of element zero for easy mining.

After that point, the rest is history. All sorts of species and peoples drew like bees to honey and it transformed itself into a complex space station. It was a hub of activity where the Galaxy's major mercenary groups were housed and boasted a marketplace where you could buy anything you could think of. Everyone you passed held a gun, and anyone with something to hide or something to show, could be found here. There was no law and no government, yet surprisingly it ran itself well enough for average joe's and cold blooded killers to live together. From what he heard, only mercenary groups have been able to instill a limited order; the most ruthless person to "control" Omega to date is an Asari syndicate by the name of Aria T'Loak.

An interesting development. He knew she was ambitious, but organized "security" and murder seemed a little much. However this was not unexpected. Time changes people as it exposes them to the cold hard truth of the galaxy. It is an unforgiving, painful place that warps people to become uncaring and distant. A shell that covers their true selves and a "mask" void of emotion or care. But the shell is not impenetrable, and the mask is not permanent. He himself was the sole lifeline to the person she was before Omega. This encounter would be interesting.

.

The trio headed down to the market district to pick a few supplies. Shepard browsed the inventory as the Wanderer and Mordin stood by having a discussion about Mordin's work aboard the Normandy.

"...Have been continuing research on collector DNA, found something disturbing. Collector DNA is a offshoot of a much larger gene pool. Cross-referencing to previous samples indicate there are more Prothean gene mutations than previously encountered. In other words there is a high probability that other alterations of Husk or modified Prothean forms exist elsewhere."

Shepard paused her browsing to listen in on the conversation. "Are you serious? As if exterminating the collectors weren't enough..." With a frown she turned back to the kiosk to check if any new products were worth upgrading to. Nothing even came close to their present power and accuracy. Every since the Wanderer had come aboard, their arsenal had grown to include weapons that surpassed Spectre-class weapons.

Mordin continued talking off to the side with the Wanderer. "...Tried to replicate healing factor with your collected DNA samples. No success so far. Hard to crack. Tried cloning cells, displacement and even introduction magnetic field. Nothing. But will continue, must continue. Enormous untapped potential. You are an irreplaceable specimen."

The Wanderer found that he did not like being referred to as a "specimen".

"Mordin, how much info did you send to the council about my ... 'condition'?"

"Only what was presented at the council meeting."

The Wanderer breathed a sigh of relief. "Please keep it that way. I would appreciate if your work stayed as your work. I dont want to see you selling my DNA samples to the highest bidder."

Mordin was taken aback. "Shocking suggestion! Doctor-patient confidentiality a sacred trust! Would never dream of exploitation! Why ask?"

He covered his faceplate with a gloved hand in shame. "Im usually pretty good at moving and covering my tracks, but in the past my "ability" was discovered, and it put me in a situation I rather not repeat."

Mordin was naturally curios and demanded details. "Care to elaborate? I suppose you were subject to immense media frenzy?"

"Yes, but thats not the worst of it. I do NOT enjoy being up front and center of attention. Im sure the average person would love being treated like a celebrity and have reporters and paparazzi follow them wherever they go. Not my style. I stick to the shadows and try not to exist. Only reason i'm still alive."

Shepard leaned over and joined their conversation once more. "I wish that was my case. Speaking of reporters, Mordin, any news on Al-Jilani?"

Mordin blinked. "Nothing. It seems she did not air her last interview with you. Possibly due to pressure from the Alliance."

She cracked her knuckles. "Good. If I ever see Al-Jilani again I don't think I can resist the urge to punch her in the face."

Mordin blinked again. "Shepard, you already have. Twice in fact."

She shrugged. "So? Ill gladly do it again."

.

Khalisah al-Jilani. Human Westerlund News reporter. Complete prick. For those who agree to an interview, al-Jilani's questions begin cordially, but gradually become more hostile. It soon becomes apparent that she is appealing to popular human opinion; she is critical of the Citadel Council, believing it treats humanity as a "poor relation". She is one of few people who have made the mistake of getting on Shepard's bad side. Both encounters ended with al-Jilani with a black eye.

.

The Wanderer grinned. "Anyways going back to what I was saying..." He steered the conversation back to the topic of discussion. "... no matter the level of advancement of that particular civilization, you are screwed either way. If they are an early civilization, you will either be regarded as a god or inevitably be part of some future legend. Its not all bad, but in my case, its simpler to just stay away and observe. However if the civilization is developed, much like todays, it takes a much worse turn. Example? Lets say someone finds out. Either intentionally or not. Word spreads and suddenly you're famous the world over. Sounds pretty sweet, right? Wrong. Forget about fans, pretty soon you'll have your own cult, or a religion dedicated to you. You'll be like a guy revealing himself to be a ... deity, and proving it. Everyday you would be bombarded by people waited to be cured, and EXPECTING to be cured. That's not the worst part. Literally every powerful and wealthy person will decide that in your veins pumps the one thing they can't buy: freedom from death. They're not going to stop until they've spent every penny they can spare to see if they can turn your blood and organs into unending life for themselves. Think about the wars that are being fought over land, money, power, ideals. The secret to eternal life would be worth far, far more. Unless your really good at hide-and-seek, when they find you, their going to keep you somewhere completely isolated. And the greatest part is that since nobody will know where you are, they can keep you there for as long as they want. And if you live forever... thats a very long time. It would like going through Jacks experience for all eternity."

"Not a pretty sight."

"Exactly. And THAT is why I would a appreciate if your work stayed as your work. Understood?"

Mordin nodded.

The Wanderer looks around them. This sector was busy today. All kinds of species buying, selling ... everything. Kinda like Illium, but less upper-class and more black-market. Plus at lot more people. The trio had to literally push people aside to get around. Recently however, the Eclipse mercenary group had steeped up it recruitment levels and launched its own brand of weapons in the underworld. It had caused quite the stir almost galaxy wide with recruitment at an all time high and profits through the roof. That was one of the reasons why it was almost difficult to get to point A to point B without steeping on someones toes.

Mordin's omni-tool beeped.

"Shepard, do you mind if we make a trip to the clinic? I would like to check up on Maelon and how hes doing after the incident on Tuchanka."

.

Maelon is a salarian geneticist, former operative of the Special Tasks Group, and former student of Mordin Solus. After Maelon went missing, Mordin sought Shepards help to find him on Tuchanka, believing him to be kidnapped by Krogan to help cure the Genophage. Upon confronting Maelon, it became apparent that he was not working under duress and instead volunteered his services to the krogan. He expressed extreme guilt for his work on the genophage, which he considered to be a form of cultural genocide. Mordin and Shepard put a stop to Maelon's experiments, and Mordin suggested that he go to Omega and run his former clinic. As for the data that had been left behind, Shepard and Mordin had made a copy before destroying the original copy. Far from completion, but closer than starting from scratch.

.

Shepard exits the console. "Sure. We can head down there now if you like. Were done here."

Shepard recalls that she has never seen the market this chock full with people. The group heads toward the stairs leading back up but are continually bumping into people on the way. Most are staying clear, but the occasional passerby strays in their path.

A passing thief makes a mistake of trying to swipe Shepard's chit and gets his hand broken without her ever looking down.

"MOVE IT."

The Wanderer accidentally bumps into a grumpy Krogan and gets a rough shove to the side. The unexpected force makes him lose his balance for a second and he collides full force with an Asari clad in full combat armor standing to the right of him. The two of them tumble to the ground like dominoes.

He jumps to his feet and extends his hand. "Sorry about that."

She accepts his hand and he helps her to her feet. They lock eyes for the briefest of moments before the Asari gives him a small smile and polite nod before promptly disappearing into the crowd.

The Wanderer was transfixed on the spot. The entire encounter was completely normal and benign, yet there was a certain something nagging at him. An intuition, if you will. There was something about that Asari that his subconscious was trying to tell him. He then remembered that Shepard and Mordin were waiting for him, so he quickly pushed it to the back of him mind and caught up with them.

.

The trio made their way to the clinic where Mordin was eager to greet Maelon after last seeing him on Tuchanka. Mordin immediately got prepared and joined his former student in the room. Shepard and the Wanderer decided to wait outside of the operating room as there was currently surgery being preformed.

It seemed that Maelon was the only doctor currently working at the clinic. The persons waiting to be treated would have to wait after the surgery had been completed. In the waiting room were a batarian, two humans and a turian. None of them looked especially healthy, with the batarian the most visibly affected as he was coughing heavily. Sitting beside him was a turian and a human with several bruises and cuts covering his arms and face.

There was little to no talk within the waiting room. The only sound came from the batarian, who's cough seemed to be getting worse with each passing minute. Shepard looked up from her omni-tool to find the Wanderer leaning against the wall, arms crossed, gaze trained on the batarian. His gaze never wavered and only seemed to intensify after each cough. The Turian that was originally sitting next to him got up and sat on the other end of the room in annoyance. One of Maelon's assistants gave him a cloth to cover his mouth in the meantime until he could be treated.

The coughs got worse and worse until drops of blood appeared.

Within the first drops sighted, the Wanderer suddenly stood up straight, and without warning, walked over and sat down directly between the batarian and the human.

When Shepard shot him a look of confusion, he simply told her he "was tired of standing." The batarian shot him a look of irritation, to which the Wanderer simply ignored. And to the astonishment to everyone in the meeting room, within minutes of the batarians close proximity to the stranger, the cough slowly subsided. By the time Mordin had finished nearly half an hour later, the cough had almost completely been eradicated.

With a satisfied grin that no one could see, the stranger simply got up and walked away, leaving the patients utterly bewildered to find that their ailments had all but eliminated.

With the trio resembled, they continued on, Shepard leading the way.

"So Mordin, how did the surgery go?"

"Went very well. Patient should make a fully recovery soon. Glad to see Maelon putting his talents to better use."

"Good. Alright then. We just got one last place to stop by. I wanted to pay a visit to Diana. Her daughter was the last being to murdered by Morith if you remember." She nodded to the Wanderer. "If you want, go ahead and talk to Aria, i'll meet you there soon."

"Understood. See you later." He turned and started walking.


	26. Chapter 26 : Omega II

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

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_"Understood. See you later." He turned and started walking._

_.  
_

He arrives at the entrance of the Afterlife.

He looks around before standing in the line to enter the club. A few people in front of him, nothing out of the ordinary. Gavorn, the turian in charge of regulating the population of Vorcha on Omega stands next to the guardrail holding a sniper rifle. Two Salarians are standing to the right of the stairs leading down to area of Mordins former clinic, no weapons on their person. If he remembered correctly one of them was an information broker by the name of Ish, who, out of impulse, had asked Shepard if she could pick up some "packages" for him. It just so happens he had the unfortunate luck of catching Shepard, Miranda and Jacob on a bad day, and the subsequent encounter ended badly. For him, that is.

After much time he reaches the front of the line. The Elcor bouncer looks him over and lets him in.

He heads through the doors.

.

The Wanderer removes his helmet and steps through the doors of the "Afterlife".

He pauses in mid step. He is stunned as his senses are momentarily overloaded.

The room was a cathedral of neon lights and in the center of the large room was a screen with asari dancers on it. Throngs of people were moving to the beat of the loud electronic music, so loud he could feel the base line pounding in his chest. There were multiple floors and bars so that anyone could find what they wanted. It was easy to see why it was the number one hot spot on Omega. The air thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol.

The atmosphere was overwhelming. He finds himself amid a club that could either be described as heaven or hell. In a way, this place was an escape. An escape from the harsh, filthy reality that lay just outside the doors. It would be easy for one to get caught up in the energy here.

Not really his kind of place, but hey, fun times.

His attention is immediately drawn to the outlook at the top of the club where Arias' loft was supposedly located. He can see a batrian and an Asari talking with another. Seemingly a heated argument. Even after all the years that had flown by, he still instantly recognizes Aria from the way she moved. She was never short of confidence, or ambition for that matter. Her removal of 'Patriarch', the former ruler of Omega, was no small feat and she had let him live to serve as a warning to others. Certainly worked so far.

He starts off in a slow walk to the other side of the club, taking in the sights and sounds, and also thinking how he should approach the situation. The last time he had seen her was when he forcefully dropped her off, against her will, at Omega with a few of her personal belongings and some credits. That probably did not bode well. In fact she probably hated him. He couldn't exactly just bust his way through an army of heavily armed guards to say hello. Without a doubt she had heavy security in place with surveillance everywhere. Not really a big problem for him, but he didn't want to turn the club into a warzone. Sending a request for a meeting was also out of the question. Again, surprise was of the element. Why, might you ask? To see that priceless first moment of reaction.

He sits at the bar and motions the bartender for a drink. The strongest one they have. Without a word the Turian bartender turns to the rack of drinks at the far side of the bar.

He takes advantage of the bartenders absence to scan the room once more. He spots pairs of guards flanking each side of the stairs leading up, no less than 6 optical security cams around the club and at least half a dozen guards at the top surrounding her. Not to mention a club filled with bystanders... And what seemed to be the same Asari from the hovercars, on the upper levels. Weird, he could have sworn she was outside a second ago. Was she following him? No way. Call him paranoid, but it had saved his ass on more that one occasion. He had to stop getting ahead of himself here. Anyways, time to check ground level security.

He turns his head and displays a intimidating stare to anyone within viewing distance. Now he checked the feedback. Of the several inhabitants of the bar that hadn't passed out, or in the process of drowning their sorrows with as much alcohol as they can, he spots several individuals returning his discerning looks. A group of Krogan are giving him death-glares and several Turian's have a puzzling look plastered of their faces. Hell, even the human beside him at the bar looks like he's pissed his pants. He would have preferred a more friendly greeting but finding yourself in a room filled with battle-hardened soldiers and tough-as-nails mercenaries that kill for a chit could prove disastrous if you didn't blend in.

A giant sword and mysterious presence tends to draw attention. The fact that the Wanderer looked like he wanted to rip out your spine to use as a toothpick didn't help either, but... perfect!, he got just the reactions he wanted. Of the dozen making eye contact, eight were sleeper guards. Guards dressed in civilian clothing to blend in and work undercover. Again, his years of experience and training kicked in automatically as he assessed the situation and located concealed weapons. Two of then had carniflex pistols and a gas grenade each, four had stripped-down assault rifles hidden. The remaining two were Asari commandos acting as dancers; One above above the bar and one on floor level. They appeared to be devoid of any firearms but their biotics were highly trained and lethal. Fortunately almost anyone that walked through these doors had no idea walking into this place was like walking into a death trap.

He then looks for ways out. He spots the entrance, the doors to the VIP, 3 large vents and plenty of shadows. Perfect for a way out.

He turns his back to the club as he waits for the bartender. His back faces the rest of the club but he never lets down his guard as his ears unconsciously scan the sounds being emitted from everywhere around him. Any advantage was crucial and necessary to stay alive.

The bartender returns with drink in hand and hands him a weird green glowing liquid that looked like it was either highly radioactive or alive. In this case, it was neither. It was a Asari liquor from Thessia named 'elasa'. Potent stuff. But unfortunately no matter how strong the drink was, alcohol was just as potent to him as water. His body would automatically filter out any toxins from his bloodstream at an alarming rate. Unwinding after a long mission with a few drinks was a reward he could never experience. Fortunately for him though, he could probably out-drink a Krogan, and because of this, he had won many a drinking game in the past. Win-win right?

He shrugs mentally. He looks at the drink and then downs it. It doesn't taste particularly good, but a drink is a drink. He raises his hand to ask for another as he continues contemplating.

The Wanderer hadn't had the time to voice his request by the time he hears something that he unconsciously snaps his hearing to. Although the loud music threatened to smother the smaller, delicate sound, his ears were sensitive enough to separate them distinctly. He hears footsteps. They are lighter than most in the club ... Female? Time differentiation from each step suggests ... Asari? The steps are balanced and reflect technique rather than brute strength ... Asari Commando? The steps are gradually getting louder with no stops in between ... the Asari is walking toward him. The steps are deliberate and certain. Yep, whoever she is, she is walking toward him for a reason. Then just before the steps become too close for comfort, they stop. The Asari had reached him. He does not turn to meet her. If she had indeed put him in her sights then she would now engage in conversation.

"Hey there," said the Asari, attempting to get acquainted with him, "I havn't seen you around here before, need some company?" she asked in a slightly seductive tone.

Crap. The Wanderer was mentally punching himself in the face. He had not taken this into account.

His thoughts ran. Several things just made this situation a lot worse than it was. For starters he was here to meet Aria, not looking for company for the night. Secondly, she was an Asari Commando. Beautiful but deadly. Sorta like a black widow. Third, even if he wanted to *ahem* fool-around, she was an Asari. During such encounters they had the ability to link nervous systems and thus, minds. Her mind would collapse under the weight of his. 100,000 years of death and destruction, not to mention a mental physiology vastly different from any species currently inhabiting the galaxy. Shepard had barely remained sane after interacting with the Prothean beacon, and that was just ONE small memory transfer. Worst of all, a mind-link would awaken some old memories. Memories he had forced himself to forget.

He turned to look at his unanticipated company. Facial markings were distinct and build suggested combat capable. This encounter was either extreme chance or deliberate.

It was hard to tell with the dimly lit bar and flashing lights, but from what the Wanderer could see, this Asari was quite beautiful. Her face seemed to stand out among the others. Her stunning feminine figure appeared to almost emit light from itself, and her bright blues eyes seemed to almost call out to him...

Jeez, Snap out of it!

"Uh, sure." He said awkwardly. His seemed to be at a loss of words that usually came natural to him. She sat next to him on one of the empty bar stools.

He motioned to the bartender for two drinks and despite his best efforts at self-denial, he couldn't help but gaze at the Asari as they waited.

"Mind if I ask you for your name?" She asked with a grin.

"Eh...," answered the warrior, "I'm not kidding you when I tell you this but ... I really don't have one. Yours?"

"Oh, so your the mysterious type?" Her lips curved into a smile. "Fine then, my name is Seryna."

"Seryna?... Thats a ... lovely name." He was startled to find out that he ran out of things to say. This conversation was becoming surprisingly agonizing. All the combat training in the world could not change the fact that that when a male meets an extremely attractive female, his mind shuts down and goes blank. All logic simply becomes overrun with primal reactions.

The Asari decided to go on talking anyway. "So what brings a person like you to a place like this?" She asks him.

The Wanderer, trying not to give too much information away, responded as casually as he could. "I'm looking for ... a certain someone."

"And who's that lucky lady?" She said, winking.

"You might know her. She sitting 25 meters to our right and 8 meters up."

The Asari traced his directions and found herself looking directly up at Aria's place above the club. "Ha ha, thats a good one. Good luck with that."

He did not laugh.

Her eyes narrowed. "You can't be serious."

"Unfortunately." He said, adjusting himself in his seat and scratching his chin.

The Asari was getting curious. "What do you want from Aria? She doesn't just see anyone, you know."

"I am aware. I just wanted the chance to catch up with an old friend." He nervously tapped the bar with a finger. What was taking the bartender so long?

The Asari was intrigued. "Old friends? That's impossible! I've never seen her with a man and she's at least 600 years old and you look barely over the age of 30 human years..."

His visage did not change. He looked completely serious. In fact he almost looked like he was amused.

Her eyes narrowed again. "Who are you really?"

Hmm. This was not looking good. He knew for a fact that the Asari commando/dancer was not here for pleasure, but for business. The Wanderer had discovered earlier that Aria was slightly paranoid and took any steps necessary to ensure her safety. Hence the abundance of security personnel and surveillance. Her job would be to scout the club and look for suspicious persons. Upon discovery she would play her role and extract information. Alcohol coupled with the fact that she was extremely attractive bolstered her ability to undermine a potential assassin. Upon discovery of a would-be assassin, she would give a signal to the other disguised persons to "escort" the person off of Omega. Usually in a body bag. And lucky for him, he did look dangerous. But something puzzled him. "Seryna" was making no strong attempts to seduce him yet; the usual tactic of a asari dancer. She was prying for information. She appeared not willing to drag herself that level. Under usual circumstances it was sex now, questions later. His silence after being asked a question by the Asari was surprisingly NOT greeted by the fidgeting of hands and talons as the sleeper agents draw to their weapons. And there was something off about her speech patterns. He was too good at reading people to miss that. So then if she wasn't working to get information for Aria, then who? The only other persons who knew of his existence and whereabouts were Shepard, and the Council.

The council...

This was quickly becoming more and more complicated. Within seconds of meeting someone, his mind ran with variables and information. He was in mid conversation, yet his was trying to figure out a psychosocial puzzle that would put most psychiatrists to shame.

Clothing. Weapons. Environment. Speech. Body language. Profession. Species. Motive.

Something was still missing. There was a piece of the puzzle that hadn't been discovered yet. He had to continue the conversation.

"Who are you really?"

"A nobody. Just a man who's tired after a long day at work. Lets talk about you. Mind telling me about yourself?" He turned to face her once more.

"What would you like to know?"

"What do you do around here?"

It was obvious to any causal observer that she was here as a dancer. However, he knew she was part of security. Her reply would either prove she had something to hide or show.

"Im a dancer. Isn't that obvious?" She replied.

She unconsciously adjusted her attire. Possibly a unconscious nervous habit from either nervousness or a telltale sign of lying. If she really was a dancer, why be nervous? She was lying.

"How long have you been working here?"

"A couple of years."

Heat rate consistent, no nervous fidget. She was telling the truth.

He continued with the questions still unsure what to do next. So many things were not adding up. Why did he even get in the middle of this mess? He would have gladly could have just gone with Shepard or just barged right up there, instead of this lengthy game of metal cat-and-mouse with someone who was a complete stranger and quite hard to crack.

The speech patterns troubled him the most. There was a slight moment of pause between answers and questions. Almost as if she thought about every word she said ... or listening for someone who was telling her what to say. He needed some way to verify this.

Physical contact was out of the question, however he still has Kasumi's old omni-tool integrated with his. That could prove useful.

"One moment please. I seem to have forgot to do something."

He activated the tool and located the 4 main super-speakers that played the music in the club. He couldn't control them from this range, but he could send feedback to one of them at a time in order verify his hunch.

He punched in a few commands and seconds later one of the main speakers let rip a high pitched squeal, before it returned to normal and was masked by the other music. They were too far away for the sound to have affected them so he had to try again. This time he send another pulse to a speaker on the other end of the club. Still nothing out of the ordinary happened except for the questioning looks of some of the clubs patrons in mid-step.

One more time. He sends the signal one last time... And even though it is not too loud, the Asari next to him is the only one in their vicinity to clutch her ear. Super-sensitive eardrum in only one ear? I don't think so. Bingo. That confirmed his suspicions.

His eyes dart to the balcony where the speaker had overloaded... and he met eyes with the Asari whom he had bumped into earlier.


	27. Chapter 27 : Omega III

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

Its a short chapter. Deal with it.**  
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_His eyes dart to the balcony where the speaker had overloaded... and he met eyes with the Asari whom he had bumped into earlier._

_.  
_

She smiles down to him. The same smile from when he bumped into her at the Markets.

"My my, i'm impressed. Didn't think you would catch on this quickly." The asari sitting next to him speaks for her through the microphone connection.

The Wanderer turns back to the bar satisfied with his discovery. He was calm again, as the logical portion of his brain regained control... well, most of it.

"Well its nice to know the council is keeping tabs on me. Actually I'm surprised it took them this long to come out to say hello."

"Oh, Why so?"

"What would you do if you were told an ancient lethal killing machine was walking in your neighborhood? You would be curious would you not?" He looks back to the rail above them, but the Asari is gone. He figured as much. However he is still talking to her through Syrena.

He turns back the asari sitting next to him. "Shall we talk face-to-face instead of this game of cat and mouse?, Long-distance relationships inevitably come to an end you know."

She laughs. "Thanks, but no thanks. If there is a 'lethal killing machine walking around the galaxy', then I better watch myself. Since the cat is out of the bag, I suppose there no use for further subterfuge. I've been assigned to shadow you for the time being. You know, just in case you do something dangerous or crazy. Id love to stay and chat but I've got a tail to lose."

Hmm. She has knowledge of human expressions. She is well educated or highly experienced.

"One more question before you go. Why show your face at all?, we both know you could have just as easily left as soon as I noticed that she was being controlled..."

"Why, you ask? Two reasons. The first so that you know your being watched. Keeps you on an invisible leach."

"And the second?"

"It just made this game of 'cat-and-mouse', all the more fun. Bye now."

The Wanderer erupted with laughter. Things just got a LOT more interesting. This was going to be fun.

With the mastermind gone, he expected Syrena to depart. "I assume your leaving as well?"

Syrena nodded. And with a quick goodbye and good luck, she was gone.

He was alone again. He closed his eyes for a moment thinking. He should have asked her for a name, but he doubted she would give him one. Nevertheless all was not lost. Her face and voice were now memorised. He would know if they met again.

The Wanderer opens his eyes just as the bartender returns.

"Are you serious?, did you forget about me or something?"

The bartender shakes his head and hands him the drink without further ado.

He downs it.

Alright, enough time procrastinating. Lets just give it a go. He was going to see Aria NOW. His way of course...


	28. Chapter 28 : Omega IV

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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He stands up straight, slamming the glass down hard on the surface. It was time.

He tilts his head upward. It appeared that the batarian she had been talking to earlier was now gone. Good. He wanted this fast, quick and quiet without drawing unwanted attention. Better for Aria to see him first for recognition, than alerting his presence to others and making a scene.

Preferred method to disable target in this situation: pressure point knockout. He had learned years ago that most asari commandos had to have a fairly large grasp of pressure points in order to graduate. Obviously because he had so much time on his hands, he decided "why the heck not?" and learned. For any "soft" species, (human, batarian, drell, salarian, asari) it was fairly easy to locate and strike points. Turian pressure points were notoriously hard to target, with or without armor. Most of their body was covered by a semi-reflective plate-like skin that gave little room for the task. Pressure points used on Krogans nervous systems had no affect whatsoever, as well as quarian and volus for obvious reasons; they were completely encased in suits.

There are two sets of stairs leading up. One is guarded by a batarian, the other by a turian. The batarian was currently the easier target - He also needed a place to leave the target until he came back to his senses. There is a small v.i.p room to the left of the batarian, currently unoccupied.

Perfect. Lets go.

He approaches. The batarian is busy fiddling around on a data-pad.

He clears his throat. "Excuse me, but I just happened to notice that the poster behind you, its for Expel 10 right?"

"Huh?" The batarian turns.

Now. The Wanderer strikes with lighting fast precision to a point on the side of his neck and immediately the batarian loses consciousness. He catches the body before it falls and shuffles him into the v.i.p room. He sets the unconscious batarian down on the seats and relives him of his data pad and omni-tool. He looks through the omni-tool but finds nothing of interest except for a layout of Omega. Could prove useful in the future. He transfers it to his. He looks through the data-pad and is surprised to find a record of every ship and "suspicious/notable person" who has stepped foot on Omega in the last 24 hours; complete with photo and ship identification. He scrolls down the list and sure enough, is Shepard's name and the Normandy SR-2.

Wait. If Shepard's name was here then... he wonders if by random chance they happen to recorded the landing of asari spectre from earlier... He grins. They did. Just the ship id though, no name. But its a start. Craft name "Aurora". A frigate built by an Asari supplier. Smaller than the Normandy in both size and power.

He exits the room and locks it behind him. He starts heading up the stairs.

.

Aria stood leaning against the guardrail of the loft, glaring down upon the "Afterlife". Her mood was grim.

Among the usual mercenary problems they eliminated on Omega, she had also received numerous complaints from club patrons in regards to the bartender on floor level. It seemed he was not doing his job half the time. Forvan, the previous bartender from the lower level of the club was caught poisoning human customers by Commander Shepard and was shot on the spot by one of her undercover turian guards. Good bartenders were hard to pass by these days. To top it off, not one, but two spectres had reportedly wound up on Omega in the last 24 hours; she was still waiting on her bodyguards official report.

She turns to her batarian bodyguard, Garka.

"Where the hell is that list?"

He frowned. "I saw Molkan on the stairs a minute ago. He should have finished compiling it by now."

"Well tell him to hurry up." Her voice was filled with impatience.

He nods and quickly exits.

.

The Wanderer was in mid stride in between the seventh and eighth step when he heard a footsteps coming down the stairs. There was no turning back and no place to hide without getting caught in time. He had no choice but to naturalize the target before it had time react.

He leapt, skipping seven steps and instantly bridging the space between himself and batarian who was making his way down. Typical first reaction had a .25 second window of immobility from perception to finger movement, on average. Military training lowered that number, but the Wanderer was prepared and millennias of training pushed that number far below what was physically possible by the batarian in front of him.

They made eye contact. His world ran in slow motion.

The Wanderers gloved hand shoots forward as the batarian's hand slowly crawls toward his pistol at the hip. A quick jab to the throat silenced any cries - Knee to the diaphragm causes him to lean forward and clutch his abdomen - back of neck exposed - quick jab to the pressure point - loses consciousness - target neutralized.

He drags the batarian to the v.i.p room and leaves him with the other. Finding nothing of interest on his person, he heads back up the stairs.

.

Sensing someone approaching her from behind Aria immediately assumed it was her batarian bodyguard.

She held out her hand to the side without turning her head. "You finally get that list I asked for?"

Without a word or a pause, a data-pad is placed into her outstretched hand. She grabs it and places it in front of her, looking through the contents. Her intelligence reports had been accurate. Commander Shepard had docked a few hours ago and another, an asari, had as well. This was troubling. Why would TWO spectres dock at the same time?

Whatever. She had more important things to worry about.

"Garka, that turian bartender that we've been hearing complaints about, get rid of him. Try to find someone who's not completely incompetent. The last one tried to poison our customers." She still had her back turned. "And that group of blood pack who you found stealing from us. Space them." Her hand was moving rapidly across the data-pad.

A voice emerged from the space behind her. A voice that was definitely not sound of one of her bodyguards. "Space them? Thats a little harsh."

She spun around, still holding the data-pad and looking up to see who dared question her, her body glowing with blue fire as she readied her biotics for a fight. She meant to return with a harsh retort, instead ended up being completely mute. Her mouth moved as if words were struggling to escape, her eyes opened and closed as if they could not accept what she was seeing. The blue fire slowly subsided.

A figure stepped out of the shadows. A figure who's recognition came flying out of the depths of obscurity and slammed into focus.

Time rolled to a stop. The music faded into the distance and the lights dimmed to a ember. Her normal aloof and apathetic facade shattered like a mirror. The data-pad slipped from her fingers and hit the floor.

The figure approached her, bent down, picked up the data-pad and rose again. A figure with gentle smile and piercing green eyes.

"Aria... It's good to see you again."

She blinked, snapping out of her stupor. She was quick to recover, but clearly had been caught completely off guard. Her former colder self struggled to fill the void that he had cleared. He had just bypassed all her emotional defenses in an instant. Love, joy, sadness and anger struggled internally. She tried saying something, anything. The usual remark simply did not come. So, she did what words could not. Without realizing it, she reached forward and embraced him tightly.

He jumped slightly as he had not anticipated this sudden contact, but he gladly returned the gesture.

She allowed herself a few moments of silent comfort before removing herself from his person, still reeling from the initial shock. She noticed that her bodyguards were thankfully nowhere to be found to witness her rare display of vulnerability.

"Its good to see you too." She motioned for him to sit. He sat. They looked at each other for a while.

He had no idea how to break this deadlock of silence, so he simply said the first thing that came to his mind. "You look good."

She laughed at his humorous attempt to break the ice that had been solid for many years. "Thank you. As I expected, you haven't aged a day. You always said you would come back and find me one day. I suppose it was foolish to think otherwise."

"I always try my best to keep my promises." He looks around him. "It looks like you've done quite well for yourself here."

Her mouth turned to a grin. "I learned from the best. Right after you left me on the station...," There was a pause as she recalled events from the earlier years of her life. "...I worked as an exotic dancer at this club. I formed alliances and ended up overthrowing the Krogan who ran this place. The rest is what you see here. Eventually I got caught up in the hunt for Commander Shepard's body and two years later she walked ended up walking right up to me. I'm guessing she's the reason your here right now?" He nodded. "So whats your side of the story?"

"After leaving you here, I did what I do best for a while. Eventually I received word that a human by the name of Commander Shepard chased a rouge spectre around the galaxy and stumbled upon the not so secret truth of the Reapers. Later, to my bewilderment, I heard that she died and then had been revived two years later. After she returned alive and thriving from their assault on the collector base, I happened to be discovered by the Illusive man who directed me to Shepard. And... here we are."

Her eyes narrowed at the mention of his name. It seems he had MANY enemies in all sorts of places.

"The Illusive man discovered you?"

"Err, it was a combination of bad luck and bad circumstances. A Cerberus vessel rescued a human frigate that was being pirated at the time, and I just happened to be on it. One of the crew was curious and then, the rest is history."

"Just like that? He didn't try to study you?"

"No, surprisingly, given his past. My guess is that he's as smart as he looks. That crew on that station would have not survived if they attempted a capture. I'm not sure if thats what he thought, but I'm thankful nothing happened. I know i'm safe with Shepard, but i'm still intrigued on why he simply 'let me go'. I suppose he thought I would be more valuable working with Shepard than under a microscope." He shuddered.

"Mordin Solus is on Shepard's team, isn't he? I'm guessing hes having a field day with your DNA."

"You have no idea. Speaking of which, Shepard should be on her way here right now. Oh, and I almost forgot. That asari spectre whom you are no doubt preoccupied about, she is no threat to you. For the time being at least. The council assigned her to shadow me."

"The council also knows about you? You were never the one to get caught. You've gotten soft."

He laughed and shook his head. "No. I voluntarily allowed Shepard to tell them of my existence. The time has come. It's now or never. That's one of the reasons why i'm here. I'm tying up some of my loose ends Ive left open over the years of my life."

She looked serious again. "So, this is your last round then. Your preparing to die. Your giving it your all this cycle."

He nodded solemnly. "If we can't succeed this time, they we never will. The galaxy has never had this much warning and resources available at one time before. Plus, I can't keep doing this forever. Even if I were to survive getting harvested again, I don't think I would have the willpower nor the mental strength to continue. The delicate tower of memories is starting to become too great for me to continue holding up. Its only a matter of time before it falls... and ... I really don't want to think about it."

She nodded. "Last time I saw you, a few hundred years ago, you had it under control right?"

"Its starting to waver. Like I said, recently Ive been tying up loose ends. With Shepard's help I've been able to visit the Archive, Tomb of the Fallen and you. This is the last run. Ive been opening up too many doors that Ive left closed for so long." His eyes unfocused and seemed to gaze into the distance. His mouth formed a tight line. His clenched fist trembled slightly.

It was strange, seeing him like this, she thought to herself. He's always seemed so invincible and indomitable; devoid of the weaknesses so often prevalent among people. And yet, it's evident now more than ever: despite everything he's done — everything he's capable of — he is, ultimately, just a man. Although he was a man with indefinite natural lifespan, he still felt pain. Pain that most would mercifully never experience. It appeared the past few years had affected him more than his usual thousand year stretches of normal life.

She leaned forward and brushed her hand against his cheek. He looked up, his eyes softly gleaming. He began to formulate something to say... When the sound of footsteps broke his thought.

The sounds of heavy footsteps echo up the stairwell. Immediately, as if on cue, Aria's personality snapped back to her old cold self as her mind and body retreated. Seconds later the faces of Shepard and Mordin appear.

Shepard approaches Aria. She motions for her to sit. Shepard sat next the Wanderer.

"Your guards on vacation today? I was surprised by the lack of scrutinizing stares as I made my way up here."

Aria looks over the Wanderer and glares.

He wore a look of surprise on his face. "Right. About your bodyguards, I left them in the v.i.p room just down the stairs on the right."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, they should wake up in about..." He glances at his omni-tool. "... 12 minutes or so."

She places a hand over her face. "Please, get them out of there. They have a job they should be doing."

He nodded, got up and made his way down.

Aria turned back to Shepard.

"Im guessing your not here just to babysit him."

Shepard smirked. "I need information. Eclipse mercenaries have been on my ass recently. I want to know why."

Aria looked over. "Normally I'd ask you for a favor in return, but you did bring HIM around so I suppose I can let it slide this time around." She stands. "As of lately the Eclipse have had a major rank re-shuffling that have resulted in a new leader who is running things much differently. No longer an Asari, but a human by the name of Dominic Solis. Also known as "Flex" for his supposed proficiency with biotics. They have launched a large new recruitment and expansion campaign that they plan to commercialize. They have released a line of weapons that they are manufacturing themselves. Eclipse has have also moved from providing security and firepower to small groups - to large scale corporations and the "upper-class". It appears like they are cleaning up their image, but I think its a cover up for something big. I don't know what yet. Why they seem to be after you is beyond what I can find out or what I care about finding out."

"Thanks." Shepard completely ignored the harsh response. "Do you have time for a personal question?"

"Depends on the question."

"He told me that you guys had a history together."

Aria glared. "And what about it?"

Shepard knew she was treading into dangerous waters. When she had asked about her past, in the past, she refused to give any details. After finding out that the Wanderer WAS her past, she hoped their talks would be less hostile.

"He was sketch on the details, but thats not my concern. I just want to know what you think of him, since you know him much better than I do."

"Why?"

"Mostly curiosity. I talk to him a lot, but you can find out the most about someone from the people they are friends with."

Aria adjusted herself in her seat. "Well one things certain, I've never met anyone like him before."

"Wow, THATS a giveaway."

"Im not talking about him as a member of a different species, but i'm talking about as the spirit who resides in that body. He is ... special ... surprising."

"...Uh, thats kind of vague."

"Normally he is a kind, strong hearted individual. A paragon, much like yourself. He is ... a gentleman, loyal and compassionate. He isn't perfect, he makes mistakes like everyone else, and there is a certain something about him that compels you to talk with him late into the night."

Shepard had to agree with her there. "What do you mean, normally? Are you telling me that's all just ... a show?"

"What? No. He is genuine. Thats what's special about him. Even after experiencing as much as he has, he is the only person I have met who has literally been untainted by the horrors of what they have seen. It changes people, I know first hand. You either distant yourself or slowly go insane."

"My family was slaughtered when I was a child."

"And do you sleep well at night? You must still keep playing the same scene over again, fighting your way out, and its the reason your still fighting today. I'm sure those memories never leave you, they make you who you are. Him however, he witnessed every sentient being in the galaxy get slaughtered, twice. And it might happen again. How he has not abandoned his lifelong mission, or gone completely cold and heartless was something I always wondered." She paused. "Tell me something, have you taken him on a mission yet?"

"Sure"

"I mean like a mission where lives are at stake, guns blazing, open terrain and tons of explosions."

"No. Not yet, why?"

Aria chucked in her secretive, slightly arrogant way. "You'll understand when you see him. How he manages to act like that, and then actually go back to being a 'nice guy' is remarkable. "

"He's two sides of the same coin then."

"What?"

"Sorry, human expression. Then how does he do it without cracking?"

"Thats something you can ask. I'm done talking for now"

The Wanderers head appears as he bounces up the steps just in time. "Those guards are waking up now. I set a timed release on those doors. Shepard we got 7 minutes to leave before some angry batarians chase us with shotguns."

"You mean chase YOU with shotguns." She turned to the asari. "Well Aria, this has been fun, we should get together and do this again sometime."

"Right." Her fist glowed blue for a moment to reinforce her point.

Sensing her hint to leave, Shepard winked and promptly headed down the stairs. Following her lead, the Wanderer was setting his foot down on the first step leading down to follow Shepard, when he heard Aria utter something. Barely a whisper.

_Come back soon._

He turned his head toward the asari, nodded with a smile – and placed his helmet back on his head. A soft hiss could be heard and he disappeared down the stairs.

* * *

This "meeting" between the wanderer and aria felt like something liara would do, but I stuck with the idea because if aria had a cold side, she certainly had a warm one.


	29. Chapter 29 : Meditation

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

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The Wanderer was currently in the elevator moving his things to Zaeed's former room on the lowers levels of the Normandy. After the mercenary found out that he wasn't being paid by Cerberus any more, he promptly left. Not that it was all bad, as he had gained control of blue suns again, but was regarded as an ... unforgettable character by the rest of the crew. It would have been interesting to meet him.

The elevator stopped at the lowest deck and the doors opened. He was about to step foot out the elevator doors when he was nearly bulldozed by Jack as she sped past him. Her eyes were slightly puffy and her heavy makeup near her eyes had ran. She had obviously been crying. Upon nearly colliding with the Wanderer, she shot him a look that promised a slow painful death, and whisked herself through the open doors to his left and down the stairs. Before he could ask what had happened, the doors shut.

_What was that about?_

In the time he had been on the Normandy, he had come to know Jack as a ... well, someone who had the entire universe dumped onto her. And not in a good way. After initial tests for biotic capable individuals, Jack became the prime subject of a sizable Cerberus experiment on Pragia's Teltin facility, with the goal of enhancing biotic potential in humans, regardless of the cost. The project was a typical Cerberus operation: lavishly funded, highly efficient, and morally indifferent, with a heavy reliance on brutal human experimentation and conditioning techniques in an attempt to maximize results. Referred to as Subject Zero, Jack was the core of the project, with every successful biotic enhancement applied to her. Many other children of lesser biotic ability were also kept as part of the experiment and treated as expendable lab animals, with many dying in trial runs of treatments to ensure that they would be successful on Zero. Any enhancements that proved lethal were not applied to Jack. She was tortured frequently, both psychologically and physically, in various experiments to test how pain and distress affected her biotic abilities. As a result she became quite possibly one of the most powerful human biotics ever, but at a price. She was violent, sometimes psychopathic, profane and short tempered. Having been used and abused so many times by people in her life, Jack refuses to trust anyone on board and is clearly both angered and confused by Shepard's attempts at friendly conversation, being unable to determine what the Commander wants from her, even though Shepard simply wanted to make small-talk. Yet underneath all of this, she is still frightened and tormented by memories of her past and longs for some kind of closure. She joined Shepard's team in exchange for Cerberus files detailing her experimentation at Teltin, after which she asks the Commander to help her destroy the now abandoned facility with a "huge bomb", symbolically planting it directly in the cell that was the source of all her misery. After that point, she was actually getting along with the crew and less likely to punch a hole through the Normandy. He didn't think that he, or anyone else for that matter, would or could see her display an emotion other than the usual neutral or angry side. This was worth investigating. Later.

He arrives at the room and drops his few belongings. A few trinkets from various places he travelled to with Shepard, some weapon parts and of course his suit and amour. He lived most of his life with those two items either on him, or safely near, and it was something he would never part with until the day he died. He suffered from the same mental affliction as the quarian elders; after spending so much time in a protective suit, you mentally felt incredibly vulnerable without it. The Normandy was one of the only places where he felt safe enough to part with it. He trusted the ship and its inhabitants enough to leave it in their care. He had specifically told them that if they touched either one of those items without consent, someone was going to get hurt. Death was not exempt from this punishment.

Unbeknown to most ... wait, unbeknown to no one, his suit was much more valuable to him than simply a tactical piece of equipment. Since the day he had gotten it, he had been taking pictures with the integrated visual scanner whenever he had seen something interesting or anything of importance to him. In other words, he had "backed up" the majority of his memories into pictures that he could view, then recall. Three cycles of destruction and rebirth. Over 100,000 years of galactic history captured in high-definition shots.

He had never once opened the storage unit that held the pictures. Not once.

It was possibly the most extraordinary yet dangerous act he could ever preform, both to himself and the galactic community. It would be utterly priceless to the scientific and historical community, it would be completely decimate some peoples views on many historical figures and events, it would be fantastic for anyone who wanted inspiration from a universe lost in time. For him however, it could be dangerous. Here was the reason why.

In the past, he'd explained to Shepard that being able to live forever wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. She had said:

"Pff, If I didn't have to worry about death, I could_ finally get shit done_."

For the most part everyone would agree with her. Everyone but the Wanderer. First up, Evolution. If the Reapers hadn't shown up every so often, he would eventually become a primitive being, evolutionary stating. Secondly, as he already discussed with Mordin, NOBODY can ever find out, your essentially screwed after that. However the worst out of these the reasons, are your perception of time, and what to do with all the memories youv'e been piling up over the years.

The fact is, time perception speeds up with age. Every year of your life seems shorter than the previous one since each passing year represents smaller and smaller portions of your life. Live long enough and people will seem to be exploding in and out of existence around you. Its like a time-lapse video of a mountain range slowly eroding over eons while species grown, nations appear and disappear around it, unnoticed. Routine becomes your enemy. Once you fell into the regular rhythm of life and preformed repeated tasks for a while, years literally flew right past your face. No new experiences. This is why he forced himself to do something spontaneous once in a while. The occasional move to a different world, a dangerous mission every so often, a skydive once in a while. The sudden changes acted as bookmarks or reference points to keep the scenes of his life in order.

Memories however, were another story. He had gathered help from the Protheans and more recently, the asari, in order to organize and lock away memories that he needed to forget. They were not lost, simply forgotten. They would always be there, locked away in the back of the recesses of his mind, until he forced himself to recall them. For which most, he hoped never to do. There are things in this universe that should never be seem, places never to be found, and pain never to be felt. Because of this, he remembers the important things, and "forgets" the things that would have rendered him utterly ruined long ago. Because of this he "erases" parts of his life, thus slowing the sped-up perception of time.

The system works well, but has its disadvantages. If something, somehow powerfully triggers a memory, there are repercussions in the form of ... collateral damage. The "collateral damage" is that after locking a memory away, when you stumble upon it again, it slams into you like a wall - and it feels as real as when you first experienced it. Every one of your senses reliving the memory exactly as it had originally happened.

Like when he had visited the tomb of the fallen, he had almost completely forgotten the place until it was too late... and then the memory broke free and ran rampant in his mind. Nearly cost both his and Shepard's life.

That is why if an asari ever starting poking around in his head, doors would be opened and out would pour a living hell.

And that is why, if he EVER looked at those pictures he had taken, he would have to be either ready to charge into a last final battle with a certainty of a glorious death ... or if by chance the galactic community defeats the reapers; the completion of his purpose here in this galaxy and thus ending his 100,000 year long mission.

He had to talk to Thane Krios when he had the chance. Drell had perfect memories right? Perhaps he could help him.

The Wanderer glances down at the terminal on the desk absentmindedly. Surprised at what he saw, he reaches down and cycles live feeds through the framed display. It appeared that Zaeed had hacked into the Normandy's security feed and gotten to display most of the on board cameras through this console. He was never one to spy on others, although several mission in the past it was required to do so, for understanding circumstances. Still... there was some passing feeling of sovereignty, something akin to being ... omnipotent, when one observes something from a distance. Like looking out a window and silently watching the world pass you by... Speaking of which, he had asked Samara earlier if he could join her for her daily meditations. Mediation was another way he kept his mind in check. Even simply staring into the void of space had a strange calming effect. Plus speaking with an asari sticar was immensely intriguing.

Dammit. He found his mind wandering to and fro thoughts much to quickly recently. Ha, ironic wasn't it?

Mediation should fix the problem.

He exited the room and made his way up a floor.

.

He walked up to the Starboard observation door and politely knocked. A calm voice was heard on the other side of the door.

"You may enter."

The holographic display blinked once, and the doors slid open without a sound. The asari justicar was seated in the middle of the floor cross-legged, a vortex of biotic power flowing between her hands. In front of her was a massive window that revealed the vast void that was space; an inky blackness that was dotted with twinkling stars.

It was truly a sight to behold. Ever after all these years the sight of it often calmed him and excited him at the same time. To him it meant safety, or perhaps the ultimate freedom. Whatever it was, it seemed to be something of a shared feeling. He had never met one person in his long life that had looked out a window of a cruiser without falling into silent awe or had felt... something. It was something of a innate reflex, or more likely, an ancestral memory that spanned millions of years. How many times had the beginnings of a great civilization look up upon the stars and wished to discover its secrets? How many times had the pioneers of our great nations look upon the stars above and yearn for its embrace? How many times had a species rose up to its challenge and conquered its unyielding tribulations? It represented achievement, the ultimate threshold and the greatest boundary. Epic in all its glory, and entirely humbling in its magnitude.

Is if Samara had read his thoughts she spoke. "Humbling isn't it?"

"Yes. Yes it is."

Realizing that he was still standing in the doorway he stepped into the room, the door closing behind him with a soft hiss.

She beckoned him to sit. He sat. The blue aura around her subsided. The vortex of biotic power dissipated.

"What brings you here, Wanderer?" She asked, her eyes slowly turning to meet his. "It is rare that anyone on this ship wishes to be in my company."

"Oh? Well then I pray I am not disturbing you." He scratched the back of his head. "Half the pleasure of solitude comes from having with us some friend to whom we can say how sweet solitude is. Am I right?"

She nodded with a smile. "I have spent most of the last 400 years on my own. After coming aboard the Normandy, I have had the opportunity to speak with a great number of extraordinary individuals who have pledged themselves to Shepard's cause. Persons from all over the galaxy who by fate joined a lone human in a fight against impossible odds. It seems her influence has no boundaries in regards to the nature of the help she receives. I was prepared to encounter the unexpected when it came to recruitment on the commanders team. However you are something of a surprise. I did not imagine a being such as yourself existed."

"If you had, I wouldn't be very good at my job."

"I am going to be honest. In all my travels I have never met someone who had me felt intimidated to speak to. An asari's life is long, 1000 years, yet you have many times that."

"Please don't be. You know, despite being part of different eras, were not so different you and I. We're a sort of like .. crusaders or mystical warriors. Lone wolves that drift across the galaxy, dealing out tough justice with nothing but the cloak on our back and the shoes on our feet. The stuff of legends."

Samara half-smiled. "Most of those legends are fictional of course."

He turned back to look out to the stars once more, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not all of them. We are still standing, are we not?"

"We are."

Silence.

"But as much as we don't want to admit it, in the end, we don't stand alone."

The justicar nodded.

Silence filled the room once more.

"It was of my understanding that you became a justicar to pursue your daughter... "

She nodded. "Among other reasons. What was your motive to become what you are?"

His elbows rested on his knees; his hands a support for his chin as he too gazed into the sea of endless stars that passed by.

"Several reasons. Noble reasons at first. I wanted to fight some and protect others. I wanted to get pushed to the limit. I wanted to be better."

Pause.

"I... I never read the fine print. I eventually became a weapon. I scoured the galaxy and removed blight by whatever means necessary. Nothing stood in my way."

Samara looked at him sympathetically.

He shook his head sadly. "You never realize how much war changes people until you see it happen to yourself."

The asari justicar nodded.

"What is your real name?"

The man searched his mind once more but still nothing came. "I... don't remember. I've gone so long without it spoken or used that I am simply someone who does not exist. A ghost. The Protheans nicknamed me the Wanderer, and it stuck. I suppose it fits perfectly."

"It must have been fascinating to live among the Protheans."

"Yes, it was. Shame they no longer exist but, then you wouldn't be sitting next to me right now. Right now, I prefer this."

Samara ceased with her questions even though there was much she wanted to learn from this man. She had heard that he often spent his nights awake and either reading, working or chatting with whichever of the crew that happened to be up at the time. Questions could wait for later.

They both returned to their original postures and gazed out of the window to the stars beyond.

It was quiet again.


	30. Chapter 30 : Flotilla

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

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Legion sat in the AI core, its processing units buzzing into overdrive. During the last few days it had spent its time in seclusion, not moving or responding to any outside stimulus. Even when Shepard-Commander or the Wanderer had inquired information in order to start an exchange, it has simply replied with: "Platform is busy. Building Consensus." The Geth collective was utilizing nearly all of their resources and runtimes in order to decide upon this one particular decision.

Legions headlight suddenly lit to full brightness and it stood up. "Consensus achieved." It took two steps forward. "EDI." it said.

"Yes Legion?" EDI's form appeared before him on the holopad.

"Notify Shepard-Commander, Creator Tali'Zorah and Wanderer to the briefing room immediately. We have important matters to discuss with them." Just about as Legion exited the room, he stepped back. The flaps on Legions head fluttered for a moment as it was taken by surprise by EDI's new form. Her new-and-improved form.

"Your appearance has changed greatly. You avatar appears to have adopted humanoid physical characteristics. Your appearance is ... aesthetically pleasing."

.

The Wanderer was in a state of deep meditation. All sensory perception had faded into something that was distant and separate. All muscles were relaxed, his breathing was slow but sure. His body was aboard the Normandy, observation deck, currently seated next to the asari justicar Samara; His mind was somewhere else.

It was a unlimited blank space that stretched as far as the eye could see. He was calmed to an almost comatose state. No thoughts, no movement, nothing. You feel incredibly refreshed afterwards. It clears the gunk that accumulates in your head, figuratively speaking.

Out of the clarity came a sound. A memory? No. The sound increased in pitch and intensity. It was distorted but familiar. It was real.

"W.n...er."

_What the..._

"Wanderer.". Voice sounded female with a hint of machinelike tone.

_Was it EDI?_

His eyes snap open.

"Wanderer."

He looks in the direction of the sound. It was EDI.

"Yes EDI?" he said.

"Your presence is requested in the briefing room." Her hologram shrank until it disappeared.

The Wanderer rubbed his eyes. How long had it been? It could have been minutes or hours. The Wanderer looks at his surroundings. He was still in the same spot when he started. Samara was still beside him.

He rises from the floor, quietly as to not disturb the asari seated next to him.

"Duty calls."

.

He entered the briefing room. Shepard, Legion and Tali stood around the central platform.

Shepard acknowledged his presence and then proceeded with the meeting. "Everyone's here Legion. What did you want to tell us?"

"We have information regarding the Creator Homeworld.", replied Legion, "We felt it necessary to bring this to Creator attention."

Tali's head perked up. "I'm listening."

"We have recently completed our task of restoring the Creator Homeworld. The majority of environmental damage has been repaired and most hazards have been neutralized. We conclude that Creator Homeworld should be completely habitable next standard month." he said.

Tali was completely silent for a few moments, and Shepard could practically see her shock clear through the mask. "You've been keeping the Homeworld safe? After all the fighting?"

Legion tilted its head to one side, tilting the flaps on the left side of its head forward in a gesture resembling a human cocking an eyebrow. "Geth have never fought Creators except to preserve their existence. We do not bear grudge against the Creators for what they have done, we simply cannot understand them."

"But where have the geth been living all this time?" asked Tali.

"We occupy orbital stations and strip mine passing asteroids." replied Legion, "It is more efficient."

The Wanderer leaned against the rail. "You didn't believe me Tali?" he said.

She waved her hands in front of her. "What, no!... its not that! I meant... I never knew..."

Legions mechanical voice rose once more. "There is more. After reviewing our time on the Normandy, our exchanges, and the cooperation with Creator-Tali'Zorah, Shepard-Commander and Wanderer we have sent a proposition to the collective, and we have reached consensus. It is in the best interest of both races and the galactic collective that we return Rannoch to the Creator race. The Creators will be able to fight at full efficiency without concern about civilian lives and introduction into a world ecosystem will allow their immune systems to recover. With a stronger galactic army, we achieve greater chances at defeating the Old Machines." It then looked at Tali. "Creator-Tali'Zorah, please contact the Migrant Fleet and send them the proposition that in exchange for a truce between our people, the Geth will return Rannoch."

The Wanderer could have sworn that any more good news would send Tali unconscious.

Shepard nodded with glee. "I'll have Joker set a course for the Flotilla. We have time before we go to the Citadel."

Tali nodded rapidly, then looked over at Legion and said, "Thank you for telling me this, Legion."

Legion's head flaps rippled. "This platform does not require thanks, Creator Tali'Zorah. We are simply relaying information." And with that it started heading out of the room.

The Wanderer stopped Legion before he left the room. "Legion? Quick question, i'm just curious about something."

"Yes, Wanderer?" he replied.

"Why did you call me up to tell me this? I'm not saying i'm not grateful for having been one of the first to hear the news, I mean its fantastic, but Tali is a Quarian, Shepard is the Captain, and i'm simply a crew member. Why tell me immediately? Shepard would have told the rest of the crew soon anyways."

The plates on his flexed. "We deemed it necessary."

"Why?"

Legions head flaps fluttered. "No data available."

"Alright, see you later."

Legion nodded once and left the room.

The Wanderer looked back over to the others still in the room. Shepard and Tali were busy hugging each other and their voices raised as congratulations were passed around. "This could be it Jane! After 300 years, my people can finally go home!" she exclaimed. Shepard was good friends with Tali as she had been on the original team on the first Normandy. Seeing a good friend under such a high-energy emotion was infectious. Hell, he would start bouncing around soon.

Seeing how he a few hours to kill, he headed down to talk to Thane and to spread the good news.

.

Shepard and Tali stood beside Joker in the cockpit as the Normandy once again neared the Migrant Fleet. They were immediately greeted by an interception team.

A voice made itself known over Jokers console. "Identify yourself."

"This is Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, requesting permission to dock with the Rayya." said Tali.

The voice spoke again. "Please verify."

"After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began." said Tali.

"Permission granted. Welcome back Tali'Zorah."

"We'd like a security and quarantine team to meets us." said Tali.

"Understood. Approach exterior docking cradle 28." said the voice before terminating the connection.

Shepard stood at the ready. "Wanderer, suit up." she said. "Were going aboard. Legion's also coming with us. I can't wait to see the look on their faces."

Tali crossed her arms.

"What?"

.

The group of four stepped through the portal and into the Rayya. Once the airlock sealed, the guards began to walk to greet them but suddenly slowed when they saw that the Geth was accompanying them. Shepard had made it clear in the past that Legion would't try anything, but things were undoubtedly still tense. After a thorough decontamination, the team were ushered to the main plaza.

Shepard had left quite an impression the last time she was here defending Tali, and it seemed as if half the quarian population had managed to squeeze themselves into one room in order to take part in the discussion. It was absolutely packed with people. The sight of Legion drew several hushed whispers from the large crowd.

The admirals were at their usual positions on their respective platforms. Sensing that things were about to start, Tali neared the podium.

Raan began with the usual formalities. "This Conclave is brought to order. Blessed are the ancestors who kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season. Keelah se'lai."

"Keelah se'lai." echoed the room.

Daro'Xen took the lead. "What is the purpose of this meeting, Tali'Zorah?"

Tali stepped forward, then nodded at Legion and said "This geth platform has information that is of extreme importance to the Flotilla."

The room was immediately filled with whispering voices. Since they had driven the quarians from their home, the geth had often held the position of ever-present evil force in the minds of most quarians. Everyone in the room probably assumed that the announcement was a declaration of total war by the geth.

After a moment, Xen nodded at Legion and said "What does this platform have to say?"

Legion stepped forward. "I am Legion, a unique platform of the geth. The geth have have reached consensus on a proposition for the Creator race: In exchange for a truce between our peoples, the Geth will return Rannoch.

Complete silence. The Wanderer reckoned it could hear a pin drop and Shepard couldn't blame them. Most of them had probably agreed that the only way they were going to get their world back from the geth was to fight them for it, which was a war they were totally unprepared for. No one but Legion knew how large the Geth army had gotten during their time behind the veil.

The admiralty board had clearly not been prepared for such a bargain. Han'Gerrel raised his hand as if to say something but was interrupted by Legion as the geth platform continued talking.

"There is more. We have recently completed our task of restoring the Creator home-world. The majority of environmental damage has been repaired and most hazards have been neutralized. We conclude that Creator home-world should be completely habitable next standard month." Legion stood at the podium waiting for a response. None came. Legion added: "That is all."

Silence. To the quarians in the plaza, they either thought they were experiencing a mass hallucination or had obviously misunderstood the Geth's words.

Out of the moment and out of complete desire to shatter the silence came a sound. A clap. The sound rang out in the muted chamber, echoing in the silent room. Everyone turned their heads to look where the sound had originated from. A man clad in black armor stood next to Commander Shepard, his hands clasped in front of him. The man then clapped once more, and then broke out in a full fledged applause. The commander looked at him for a moment and then also joined him. A quarian sitting at the end of the room joined in, then another, and another. The frenzy was followed by more and more as it swept across the plaza in a wave of raw emotion. The entire plaza then simultaneously erupted into standing ovations, cries of joy and some of the overwhelmed burst into tears.

The Wanderer was beaming inside his suit. Even though this was wholly unrelated to him, we was truly moved by the entire situation. A SYNTHETIC race had forgiven an organic one that had threatened to destroy them, and peace had once again been restored after 300 years of cold war. The galaxy was one step closer to unity.

Daro'Xen was the first Admiral to break up the party. "And how can we be sure that this isn't a trap? How can we be sure that the geth aren't just trying to trick us?"

Legion spoke again, its mechanized voice monotone and calm. "We are not programmed for dishonesty, and have never attacked the Creators except in self-defence."

"What have the geth been doing with the home-world this whole time then?"

"We occupy orbital stations and strip mine passing asteroids." replied Legion, "It is more efficient. The Geth have agreed to support Shepard Commander against the Old Machines. If we are to succeed in the coming war the galactic community must be strengthened."

The admirals talked among themselves for a moment before they turned back to the meeting. They looked out upon the quarians assembled and saw something that they had not seen in a very long time. Every one of them was utterly quiet, their gazes trained on the admirals. They knew that this is what they had been waiting for. Nothing would stop them from being reunited with their long lost home.

Raan took the lead again. "Once we have verified that the home-world has been vacated by the Geth and is prepared for habitation, peace will return to both our races."

Legion spoke again. "We will inform the Fleet when we have achieved confirmation that the home-world is fully restored". Legion stepped down and then found his way to Shepard's side.

Shala inclined her head to the geth, then addressed the room, "This Conclave is concluded. Go forth in peace. Keelah se'lai."

"Keelah se'lai" echoed the room again.

.

A cheer rose up in the room and the collective quarian people then began to surround Shepard's team and shower them with thanks and praise. Legion was completely swarmed and was unsure how to react in this situation. He kept repeating that "this platform does not require thanks" but it did not help to stop the overwhelming responses from the Creators. Many of these people had lived their entire lives on board a ship, hearing stories about a long lost world that was once theirs. After 3 centuries of suffering a punishment that their ancestors had burdened, they were finally able to reunite themselves with each other on their own planet. The Wanderer contemplated that he was no different than the quarian people. Both had been wandering the stars for years, searching, waiting, surviving. And now they had found their place in the cosmos once again.


	31. Chapter 31 : Citadel

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE

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-The Council

-The Illusive man

-Cerberus operative No.1927

-Commander Shepard + company

-Etarn Tiron - Shop owner on the Citadel

-Aria

-Aria's former bartender + current bodyguard

-Asari Spectre + companion

...

The Wanderer was currently making a list of those who had seen him in the past few weeks and could possibly implicate him. It was an automatic mental process that was completed everyday whether he liked it or not. Back in the day when he was in a constant state of relocation and covert observation he had to keep track of those who knew of his existence, and silence those who could potentially expose him. This was an operation that he treated with extreme sensitivity. He had not killed needlessly in several thousand years and had no intention to start again. In the present he could afford to relax a little and slip up, as the circumstances required his presence. But when all this blew over, IF everything blew over, he hoped to relinquish his wandering ways, lock his suit and sword away, and finally settle somewhere.

Right. Like that was going to happen.

Back to the list. He trusted Shepard and Aria completely. The Geth were ... the Geth. No explanations needed. Of those who were still shaky on his list were the council and the asari spectre, but he knew they would keep things under wraps. They always did. The Cerberus operative and shop owner would eventually forget who he was. That left the illusive man. He did not trust him; Neither did anyone else for that matter. He would have to see how things played out.

The Wanderer closed the omni-tool and walked over to the terminal on the other side of the room. He inserted a blank OSD and transferred the contents of a file onto it and removed it from the terminal. Inside was the partially completed schematics for the upgraded version of the Thanix cannons. Himself, Tali and Garrus had been working extensively to upgrade the cannons for maximum reaper-busting effectiveness. Although the Normandy's current cannons were nearly identical to ones Sovereign had used, its power wasn't nearly the same as one. The reapers were substantially larger and had massive element zero cores to power the weaponry. The closest thing they could do was to equip a dreadnought with a full sized set of the cannons, but dreadnoughts were few and incredibly expensive. They needed alternative methods. The blueprints were far from being completed but it was a start.

EDI's hologram appeared.

"Wanderer, you are requested in the briefing room. Commander Shepard also asked for you to prepare for boarding the Citadel." the AI said.

He nodded. "Alright, I'll be right up. Thanks, EDI"

Her hologram shrank until it was gone.

.

Shepard was in the briefing room speaking with Legion and the Wanderer. They had just previously docked at the Citadel and Shepard was updating them about the current situation.

"The council is holding the first major conference and most of the council race representatives will be there. Legion here told me he's been appointed as a temporary ambassador for the Geth, and I'm bringing you along, for obvious reasons. The race representatives are going to want to see you." Her eyes trailed to the OSD in his hand. "Have you got the Thanix schematics with you?"

The Wanderer held it up in front of him and nodded.

"Good. We're already late so lets get a move on. And here," She handed him a small data-card. "The council granted you a temporary pass on the citadel. You're allowed to wear your suit in the meeting as per your request. They weren't too happy about it, but I convinced them."

He took the pass.

.

The trio made their way through the C-sec checkpoint and stepped into the Elevator to go down. The doors closed and then descended.

Shepard's foot tapped impatiently. The elevator seemed to crawl at a snails pace. "You would think that after all these advances in technology nowadays, elevators would be a little faster..."

Her voice was interrupted by the news that was broadcasted in the elevator with them.

_In breaking news: a peace treaty has been brokered between the Geth and Quarian races. The first treaty of it's kind since the Geth-Quarian war, the treaty includes a cease fire between the races. In exchange, the Geth have returned the Quarian homeworld, Rannoch, back to the Quarian people. The peace treaty was made possible due to the diplomatic interventions of Commander Shepard, the first human Spectre. _

"Geez, I wish they hadn't said it like that. I barely did any work." she said.

He leaned over. "If you were not alive, the Normandy would have not been commanded by you, and if the Normandy was not being commanded by you, I highly doubt someone else would have housed a Quarian and a Geth in the same ship. If Legion was not aboard with Tali, I also highly doubt the Geth would have changed anything."

Legions monotone voice suddenly rose. "Correct."

Both Shepard and the Wanderer turned their head in surprise. Legion was usually completely silent unless asked a direct question.

Shepard rubbed the back of her neck. "Well I guess when you put it that way. I mean I'm happy about the whole thing but its the media attention that I'm worried about..."

The warrior lowered his head momentarily to see below them. "Eh...it may be a little late for that."

She also looked down the semi-transparent material of the elevator. Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?!"

At the bottom, surrounding the exit of the elevator, was a swarm of media reporters, journalists and all manners of paparazzi waiting for the famed commander Shepard to arrive on their floor.

Shpepard covered her face in exasperation. "I'm not in the mood for this right now." she said.

Neither was the Wanderer.

Thankfully, he had come prepared. He turned to Legion. "Legion, you might experience some communication discrepancies in the next few moments. Do not be alarmed. Just follow Shepard, do not communicate to anyone. After the press have left, everything will return to normal. Understood?"

Legions head ruffled for second as if unsure. "Acknowledged."

When she was about to question his motivation, he took out a small gray rectangular device and placed it on Legions back. It blended right it with the other tech, and from a passing glance it was inconspicuous.

The elevator reached the intended floor. Before the door opened however, the Wanderer quickly activated the device, turned to Shepard and raised a finger to his helmet where his lips would be. Then the doors opened and he quickly dropped his hand.

The doors opened and Shepard was readied herself to be blinded by a sea of camera flashes when ... none came. She looked around her. A reporter to the right of them was frantically fumbling with his camera and shouting obscenities as it had appeared to have stopped working. Followed by several more as flashes failed to appear and were instead replaced with curses from the press all on sides. Shepard took heed to the Wanderers advice and marched straight through the sea of reporters without looking back. A video drone that Legion passed simply fell out of the air onto the ground. Microphones recorded white noise and reporters were frantically rushing to fix their equipment. They failed to notice Shepard rolling on right past them with a huge grin on her face instead noticing that all of their equipment had suddenly and explicably, malfunctioned.

.

Once they were a safe distance from the press they stopped. The Wanderer deactivated the device, removed it from Legions back, dissembled it into several smaller pieces, and distributed them in several different disposal units as they passed.

The Wanderer faced the Geth platform. "Legion, are you alright?" he said.

"Affirmative. We experienced a temporary secondary sensor malfunction although main input was unaffected."

"What was that?" Shepard asked, curious.

"A modified communications disruptor." The warrior replied. "I created it specifically to cause most audio or visual feed to blank or short itself out. However that video drone knockout was a bonus. I had no intention of having my picture on front page news, and you seemed like you had the same intentions."

Shepard agreed. "Why did you get rid of it, though? It would be great to carry around."

He shrugged. "Well, it's not exactly legal here on the Citadel. Plus, were heading into a high-security zone, I don't think I want to be caught with an illegal tech when they search me. My present appearance doesn't precisely inspire trust and security at first sight."

"I can't argue with that." Shepard said as she watched as a salarian pass them with a frightened look on his face. "I think we're here."

The council chambers were built from the remaining citadel tower, although now they were a separate section of the citadel, no longer open to the many who walked through its halls because of "security concerns" from the first geth/reaper attack. The architecture was most asari inspired with a newer hint of human furnishings.

They walked up the council chamber doors and were stopped by C-Sec officials who then individually scanned and searched the three of them. Top-security clearance needed. All weapons and anything with element zero emissions were to be held outside the council chamber until the meeting had been completed. No omni-tools, no weapons, no recording devices, no exceptions. They were heading into a meeting of the highest security, as the galaxies most influential leaders were going to be seated all one room. One slip up and it was all over.

Shepard was first to enter. She walked through an array of sensors, was asked to remove all her weapons, her omni-tool, verified her identity with a DNA scan and was ushered into the chamber. She had carried none of the Wanderers modified weapons so the screening went quickly.

Next was Legion. He walked through the sensors in full view of everyone there. AI heuristics and electric current warnings were off the charts as the sensors brought up warnings about a Geth presence. A few alarms sounded, and several security personnel rushed into the foyer to contain the "Geth infiltrator".

Legion looked at the soldiers surrounding him with an unblinking eye. "My presence was requested here."

Bailey rose from a desk near them with a data-pad in hand. "Weapons down! The geth's been cleared to enter by the council! Let him go."

The soldiers cautiously put their weapons down and slowly walked away, their gazes never leaving the geth platform.

The C-Sec officials then moved in for the usual inspection protocol.

"Uh...sir, your weapons?"

Legion removed several geth weapons which were then locked into their own respective weapons lockers. Lastly legion removed a massive sniper rifle from his back and it was placed into its own special receptacle. Legion was then escorted into the chamber.

Once the geth was out of sight, the Wanderer spotted one of the officials gazing upon Legions weapon. He was good enough at reading humans that the gaze was not one of intrigue or awe but of greed. The officer scanned the rifle and naturally there was no match for the manufacturer or any information on such a weapon, except for the label 'WX-32' and the word 'Legion' under the ownership name.

After staring at it for a while, the officer motioned over one of his fellow officers and they began to talk in a hushed manner.

The Wanderer had a feeling they were discussing how much they could get for an unknown geth rifle. Of course it wasn't geth, but they didn't need to know that. If one of his weapons ever made it onto the market, it would be worth possibly hundreds of thousands of credits, maybe more. Their specs surpassed prototype spectre grade stock.

When it was his turn he was met by the same officer.

"Sir, I'm going to ask you to remove your armor."

Without a word the Wanderer presented his pass.

The officer looked at it sceptically, but then scanned it and verified it authenticity.

"Its protocol that no weapons be carried in the council chambers. Please leave your... sword here. There are no exceptions."

Without a word the Wanderer removed it from his back and personally carried it over to the weapons holding area. It was too large to fit in a normal weapons capsule so he placed it on one of the tables and wrapped it in a static-proof cloth with a delicate touch. Upon leaving his hands, the green circuitry in the sword faded.

The officers eyes lit up. The Wanderer saw this.

He turned to face the officer. "If you touch it, I will kill you." He said it with complete seriousness and without hesitation.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." the warrior said.

"Is that a threat?"

"Yes."

The Wanderer turned and walked past the giant doors.

.

The chamber was colossal. Hundreds of seats across dozens of rows that curved to meet each other in a wide circle of sorts. Each row elevated higher than the one before it. Every seat was filled in with a delegate. Each specie had its own reserved section divided up among the rows that rose up toward the ceiling. A huge hologram projector sat smack in the middle of the room. Among the usual citadel races were asari, salarian, human, elcor, hanar, turian, and volus. Some of the surprising newcomers were the Krogan, Geth, and Quarians among others. Shepard searched for familiar faces in the crowd and saw Wrex and among the delegates. Wrex gave her a nod to which Shepard returned.

Sensing that things were about to begin, Shepard found her way to her assigned seat at the very front of the human division. Legion stood upon his own podium, being the current and only Geth ambassador, and the Wanderer sat at a special seat near the council podium. Once everyone was present, the Council took their seats in the focal point of the room.

The asari councilor started. "Thank you all for attending today's first ever galactic-wide specie assembly. This is truly a historic moment for all of us and we hope this gathering will strengthen the galactic community as a whole." She paused as the massive holo-projector in the center of the room powered up.

"The purpose of today's meeting and the many that follow are about the Reaper threat. You were all briefed before coming here, but we are going to go over it again." she said.

At once there was an uproar among the room. She held up her hand and the noise subsided.

It was the turian who spoke next. "After the battle of the Citadel, we had originally 'dismissed' that claim..." He looked at Shepard who was seated close to the podium. She wore the largest grin he had ever seen. "... but due to the heroic actions of Commander Shepard and her team, solid proof was found and our attention has been reinstated."

Councilor Anderson continued. "From what we have gathered, the Reapers are a highly advanced machine race of synthetic/organic starships. They reside in dark space dormant for thousands of years, until they are given a signal to return. The Reapers were the original creators of the Citadel and the mass relay network. These massive constructs exist so that any intelligent life in the galaxy would eventually discover them and base their technology upon them – all part of a scheme to harvest the galaxy's sentient life in a repeating cycle of purges that has continued relentlessly over countless millennia."

This time instead of an uproar, there was silence. The hologram in the center of the chamber displayed all sorts on information about them including pictures and schematics.

"The starship that attacked the citadel was not a geth construct. It was a reaper named Sovereign, who played the role of a vanguard that would open the galaxy to the reapers. Commander Shepard was able to successfully stop the activation of the relay and with the help of the Alliance navy fifth-fleet, Sovereign was destroyed."

Cheers were heard.

The salarian councilor stepped up. "Shortly thereafter Shepard's ship, the Normandy, was destroyed by an unidentified vessel. The majority of Shepard's crew escaped, but she herself was spaced after helping save her team. She was officially listed as killed in action. Two years later she appeared on the citadel, having been revived by Cerberus. I am sure most of you know of them. They assisted Shepard in finding out that the unidentified vessel belonged to the Collectors, an extremely secretive race that was mostly just speculation. Then by her own accord, she lead her new team through the Omega 4 relay, located the Collector base at the galactic center, and uncovered the truth behind the human colony disappearances. The collectors were kidnapping and processing humans to create another Reaper. Shepard destroyed the base including the reaper-in-progress, and cut ties from Cerberus thereafter. The Collectors were discovered as having been genetically modified Protheans. The species that was mysteriously wiped out 50,000 years ago that had been under much debate."

Images of the collector base and reaper was fed through the hologram. There was an outrage coming from the Hanar sector.

"The Protheans bodies were completely replaced with tech, there was no hope for any sort of rehabilitation."

The Hanar outrage subsided.

The asari took to the podium once more. "Upon her arrival back from the omega 4 relay, the commander was contacted by a being known only as the Wanderer. This being's species originates from before the Protheans, making him witness to his own, and the Prothean race extermination at the hands of the Reapers. He is just over 100,000 years of age and had been cooperating with Prothean scientists to formulate a plan to stop the Reapers but was too late to prevent their own destruction. In the time we had contacted him, he shared with us blueprints for the Conduit; a Prothean reverse-engineered mass relay. It is currently completed and functional."

The entire room burst out in chatter. Was this for real? Was he real? Was he here?

The turian councilor stepped up. "Everyone please calm yourselves. He is indeed here. Was there something you wished to share with us?"

All eyes turned to the Wanderer. It was one of the creepiest things he had ever been subjected to. He was fully armored, having stood by his wishes that he would never show his face publicly.

"Thank you councilor." He said, standing up and approaching the terminal. "As we already know Reapers are tough, but not invincible. When the Reapers go into states of hibernation between cycles, they are vulnerable. By taking refuge in dark space, the Reapers ensure they will not be discovered by accident and destroyed while they wait for their vanguard to open the Citadel mass relay. This option is already been removed. We know the Reapers are coming as we speak, as they have already awakened. Our only other option is to fight. We know this and we can do something before they show up at out doorstep. However, this will not be easy. Reapers are immensely powerful warships and their technology is devastating. Sovereign's destructive power was unrivaled in the known galaxy. Each of the "tentacles" extending from its bow was equipped with a powerful "magnetohydrodynamic" weapon which ejects a stream of molten metal at a fraction of the speed of light which could tear through a cruiser in a single sustained burst. Its gigantic spinal-mounted gun was able to rip through the hulls of even the largest of dreadnought-class ships with ease, effortlessly penetrating their kinetic shields. Sovereign's defenses included powerful shields that could block the projectiles of an entire fleet, along with an incredibly strong hull. We need alternatives in terms of firepower."

He opened up the OSD in front of him and its contents were displayed for the room to see. His fingers danced over the holographic terminal.

"Contrary to popular belief, Sovereign's main gun was not a directed energy weapon. Rather, its massive element zero core powered an electromagnetic field suspending a liquid iron-uranium-tungsten alloy that shaped into armor-piercing projectiles when fired. The jet of molten metal, accelerated to a fraction of the speed of light, destroys targets by impact force and irresistible heat. After Sovereign was destroyed pieces were salvaged by turian forces and only 11 months after the battle, the turians produced the Thanix, their own miniaturized version of Sovereign's gun. The Thanix can fire reliably every five seconds, rivaling a cruiser's firepower but mountable on a fighter or frigate. These guns were installed upon the Normandy, Commander Shepards ship, and its effectiveness was tested against the Collectors. Worked like a charm, but still not nearly the same power as a full sized reaper. To combat the lack in power iv'e started the beginnings of an upgrade to those systems..."

Blueprints swam around the holo.

"Injecting a modified stream of charged iridium and element zero particles into the alloy allow the molten projectile to rotate, allowing the shot to have an added spin, this increasing the penetrating effectiveness. Once free from the mass effect fields, the charged element zero combination reacts like a javelin torpedo, destroying the target from the inside out. I would like to see it being developed as soon as possible. The faster we mobilize the better." He sat down.

Legion spoke. "In accordance with the new treaty between the Quarian and Geth races, we have started working in unison to develop a large scale directed electromagnetic pulse weapon capable of nullifying large scale warships." He stepped down.

The Asari councilor stepped up. "In light of these new developments, the Treaty of Farixen is being temporarily lifted to prepare for the final assault. Contact will also be attempted for the races not present today. This is all that is being discussed today. Thank you all for coming."

The lights rose again, the meeting was over. Shepard was approached by various member of Systems Alliance other top brass who wanted to express their thanks.

After much time Shepard started looking for the Wanderer among the swarm of people present.

"Commander Shepard."

She turned to face a tall older human who wore an systems alliance uniform.

She immediately stood ramrod straight and saluted. "Admiral Hackett! It good to finally meet you, sir!"

"At ease," he said, his blue eyes focused on the Commander. "It's good to meet you too, Shepard. From what I've heard, you've been busy recently..."

.

Admiral Steven Hackett is a top-ranking official of the Alliance Navy and commanding officer of the Fifth Fleet. On relatively equal political status with both Ambassador Udina and Captain Anderson, Hackett was one of the three officers who recommended Commander Shepard as the first human Spectre. During the mission to track down Saren Arterius, Hackett frequently contacted Shepard with key assignments, especially those vital to the Systems Alliance security, and is generally more accepting of Shepard's decisions than Udina. They had never met face to face until now.

.

"...I want to personally thank you for all that youv'e accomplished for the galaxy Shepard. You have made humanity proud." He noticed the Cerberus insignias had been removed from her armor. "You know Commander, if Cerberus hadn't brought you back, I'm afraid to imagine what would have happened to the rest of us."

Shepard nodded. "Its not over yet, sir."

"No, no its not. Keep up the good work, Shepard. We're all counting on you." He saluted.

She saluted back. "Thank you, sir."

The admiral turned and walked away leaving Shepard standing alone amid the crowd around her. Shepard eyes slowly unfocused and stared into nothing, her mind thinking about what he had just said.

We're all counting on you.

The enormous weight of those words hung on her shoulders, threatening to topple her. Having heard it from someone other than herself brought a new dimension to the meaning. How could she possibly carry this burden on her own? Back on the first Normandy, she'd just been some human chasing some rouge turian across a few planets. One simple mission that had spiraled into much, much more. In two years she had saved the citadel, died, been brought back to life, and undertaken a suicide mission against once-Protheans. Now she was fighting for the lives of every sentient being in the galaxy. The pressure was crippling.

A heavy hand was felt on her shoulder. It was the Wanderer.

"A man once told me, 'God places the heaviest burden on those who can carry its weight.'" he said. "I do not doubt the validity of that statement. Look around you Shepard. You have accomplished what no-one else could. If you had not done what you did, we would not be standing here right now, surrounded by nearly every species in our galaxy, united and strong."

"Not all of it."

"Its better than anything I've ever accomplished." he said. "What I'm trying to say is that you don't carry it alone. You have the council, the Alliance, your team aboard the Normandy, and you have me." He gently squeezed her shoulder. "Do not pray for a lighter load, but a stronger back."

Shepard reached up with her hand and touched the armored hand on her shoulder.

Her resolve strengthened, she stood up straight.

"Then what are we waiting for? Lets go kick some ass!"


	32. Chapter 32 : Sand

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

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The Wanderer's hand lingered on her shoulder for a while before dropping back to his side. His head moved from side to side as if searching for something before pausing in one direction.

"Well Shepard if we're done here and if you don't mind, I think i'm going to make myself scarce."

She also looked around. A small crowd was heading toward their location from the far side of the room. They were without a doubt curious about the mysterious "Wanderer", who's presence here seemed nearly supernatural.

"You don't want to stay and chat?" she asked with a sarcastic tone, "I'm sure they have a lot of questions for you."

If anyone could have seen his face, his eyes would have rolled. "Eh, not really. I have some items that I have to pick up at the lower markets and i'm not in the mood for a public spectacle. Shall I meet you on the Normandy?"

Shepard nodded. "I'll stall them. See you later."

.

"You have unread messages commander.", EDI's voice chimed.

Walking over to her private terminal, she opened her inbox and was surprised to find a message from Aria. One of her men had found a data-pad disclosing the location of a major Eclipse base that had been shipping extraordinary amounts of red sand through Omega. This abundance of drug on Omega was apparently upsetting the balance of power and causing violent clashes. Aria commented that if Shepard "corrected" the problem, she would give her some information on the guys that had been hunting her down. Aria was pretty shady as shady characters went, but she was trustworthy and had never bullshitted her. It was a deal. She replied and closed the terminal.

Shepard took the elevator down to the CIC, walked over to the galaxy map and activated it. Within seconds, the milky way galaxy was at her fingertips. Entering the coordinates, the map zoomed in on a small planet orbiting a bright yellow star. The planet was environmentally habitable and had a atmosphere mainly composed of oxygen. The mission seemed easy enough. The base was big, but its was nothing she hadn't tackled before.

She raised her head and from her place on the ramp she could see Joker talking with EDI in the cockpit. She activated the com. "Joker, stop flirting with EDI, we got a new assignment. We're raiding a Eclipse base on the edge of the Artemis Tau cluster. It's a big one. Tell the Wanderer, Garrus, and Jacob to suit up and bring the new weapons. I want to have fun with this one."

.

The shuttle doors opened and they all stepped onto the green ground. They had trouble finding a safe place to land the shuttle, but Joker had pulled through and found a small clearing. The base was just ahead, a complex masked by the lush vegetation that covered the planet pole to pole.

She had just barely familiarized herself with her surroundings before a familiar voice crackled over her headset.

"Normandy to Shepard."

She activated the com. "Yes, Joker?"

"There's a mass exodus of ships that started tearing away from the planet as soon as you landed. They know you're there."

"Alright, thanks Joker." She closed the channel. So much for stealth mode. She was about to give out orders when the sound of gunfire was suddenly heard in the distance. She saw the Wanderer's fingers had twitched.

"Commander," he said, "permission to scout ahead." His voice was suddenly colder than it was just seconds ago in the shuttle.

She looked at him sceptically but granted his request. He was no doubt used to tackle missions lone wolf style, but she lead the team, not the other way around. "Permission granted. Stay on the channel, eye-in-the-sky reports. I don't want to see this place ever running again."

He nodded once, and then in a flash he jolted with insane speed straight into the thick undergrowth and was gone within seconds.

She turned to Garrus and Jacob who were standing on either side of her. She gave the go-ahead signal and they advanced toward the base.

.

They reached a checkpoint. There were two guards on the lookout atop a tower and two patrolling the ground.

"Garrus, take the two up top first. Don't let them make a scene. I'll give the signal, then give me countdown on the ground team." she said, moving past him toward the barriers.

He took the sniper from his back and it expanded itself in his talons. Positioning himself behind a large boulder covered in foliage he took aim, switched the sniper to the alternative shot and waited. In front of him Shepard and Jacob were positioning themselves around a barrier, ready for the ground team to move past them.

He looked back to his targets on the tower, they had their backs turned to each other and both were leaning out the sides to look below. He inhaled.

"Now." said his earpiece.

The order could not have come at a better time. He exhaled and squeezed the trigger. A sliver of metal was carved from the ammo block, ejected into the mass accelerator chamber and accelerated the round to relativistic speeds. The Geth pulse motor added a spin with a further mass enhancement and the speck of metal flew out of the long barrel like it was destined. A small popping sound was heard from the gun, and the target in his sights simply froze for a moment, then slumped over. No loud retort, no explosion of brain matter and no mess. The kinetic barriers did nothing to prolong his life. His partner was still looking below, oblivious to the fact that his fellow mercenary less than two meters away from him was now dead. Garrus gave a turian smile and squeezed the trigger once more. The other mercenary slumped over.

Self-note, he had to thank the Wanderer once more back on the Normandy. This was too good.

"Done. T-minus 6...5..." He replied.

.

Shepard stood waiting. In her hands she held the mass effect hammer. It was testing time.

"5...4...3...2...1...Now" Garrus whispered.

She turned the corner and slammed the hammer down upon the two mercenaries that were now directly in front of her. The head of the hammer crushed the first from the sheer fact that a heavy chunk of metal had just slammed into him. The impact itself activated the drive of the hammer, ripping the mercenaries apart in mass effect fields and electric arcs that spewed forth. She lifted it back to her shoulder. The mercenaries were history. Time to continue.

"Six ahead." A voice suddenly said on the com channel. The message stopped as abrupt as it had began. She stopped. It was the Wanderer's voice. She motioned her squad to hide behind the barriers immediately.

Seconds later a group of six mercenaries emerged from the dense foliage ahead. They were in a tight group formation, but completely exposed should Shepard's squad open fire. She gave the signal to Jacob.

Jacob leaned out from a barrier, his hands grasped around the WX-200, its drums of ammo-blocks already rotating. He simply focused the front of the weapon in the mercenaries general direction and held down the trigger. A storm of metal exited and struck the group with the effect a dozen submachine guns opening fire. It ripped through their shields from the sheer volume of projectiles and peppered their armor with holes. Confused and surprised they broke formation and scattered. Shepard slammed the hammer down and Garrus opened fire. They all fell within seconds.

They had believed an army had ambushed them.

.

Shepard's team continued on. They rounded more corners and encountered more and more enemies as they got closer to the base. They posed no problem.

"Three bots on your right." The Wanderer's voice once again abruptly updated them and then closed. His voice seemed detached and trance-like.

Sure enough, seconds later there were three security mechs that were headed their way. A few shots from her sub-machine gun and biotic push levelled them.

They travelled some more when the reached the entrance of the base. Shepard decided that it was high time they caused a ruckus, and they all ran in guns blazing. Garrus pulled off causal head-shots, Shepard alternated between biotic shock waves and her assault rifle, and Jacob mowed down anything that moved. Once they reached the prefab buildings she used her hammer to clear out pockets of mercenaries that had grouped together in the rooms waiting for them.

"Have you reached the base yet?" she asked over the com.

"Affirmative." The com closed.

Shepard found a terminal in one of the rooms. Downloaded the base's layout and copied it to Garrus and Jacob. They base was massive, divided into 7 sectors. Right smack in the middle said "storage", their target.

"Wherever you are, we're advancing through sector 2. Keep us posted." she said.

"Affirmative." The com closed.

Shepard and Jacob ran into the large room and took cover behind some of the crates stacked there. There was no motion and nothing moved. There were no signs of life in the small building. Looking out from behind a crate she did not see anyone. The three of them spread out and checked the connecting rooms and offices. Shepard found several safes and stashes of thermal clips but the booty was disappointing for such a place. For such a large base it was surprising that they had just got up and left that quickly. They carried themselves onward.

The Wanderer's voice entered her ear piece once more. "Control room located in sector six. Cleared sector four and five. Advise not advancing through cleared sectors."

Advising? What the hell? Curiosity got to the better of her. Sector seven was where the "storage" was located. Control room was in sector six. They were nearly there. "Alright, meet us in the control room. Shepard out."

Shepard entered sector four. The first thing she noticed was the darkness. All the lights had been blown out, someone had overloaded the electronics. Then as the trio advanced into the silent darkness they noticed the blood. It was splattered on nearly every surface, even the ceiling in some places. Bodies had been completely ripped apart. Limbs and mech parts littered the floor. Bullet holes were everywhere, obviously everywhere except their intended target.

"What the hell happened in here? Did the reapers arrive early?" Jacob said, looking at a unfortunate mercenary whos insides had been literally ripped out by a fist sized hole.

Garrus almost stepped on a arm. "Straight out of a human horror film" he said. "Remind me to never get on his bad side. Ever."

"You know when Aria said that he was different on the battlefield, I really don't think this..." she pointed to a headless corpse, "is what she meant." On the other side of the chamber, one of the reinforced windows had been completely shattered. Probably where the Wanderer had entered. Smart. He used fear as a weapon. He overloaded the lights, broke in and just started swinging. A room full of mercenaries fighting a enemy who they could't see or react fast enough to.

"One sector left guys."

They entered sector five. The lights were flickering. They found four bodies. All were Eclipse sisters, asari biotics that were required to commit a murder to gain acceptance. The expression on their faces could only be described as surprise and shock, as they realized that their adversary could not be touched by biotics. Even if the Wanderer had skipped this room, she would have killed them anyway. After the incident on Illium, any sister she encountered was crushed under her heel. Her rare act of kindness had been exploited and it left her with a bad feeling in her mouth.

In one corner, a ymir mech was found with its circuitry still sparking, its armor sliced open in great gouges, its cannon completely severed from the rest of the machine. Impressive. She would have just nuked it.

They walked through the door to the control room. Screens covered every wall, two seats were occupied. One held a dead mercenary. The other held the Wanderer, hands dancing over the console.

"Hey guys." His voice had returned to normal. Its cold edge from earlier was gone.

"What do we have?" Shepard asked.

"We have security cams from everyone on the base. They detected us by a motion sensor placed near our drop zone. They don't know who we are, thankfully, I caught this chap just as he was broadcasting our identity. Most of the higher-ups escaped through the ships Joker told us earlier. We took out nearly everyone left on the base. They erased most of their files but I managed to recover this." He handed her a data-pad. "Its some of their shipping routes and transactions. They were making over 20 million creds every shipment. Strangely enough I found the location of a nearly identical refinery in the next system. Either we are really lucky or they screwed up big time."

Shepard looked up at the screens. "20 million a week? Aria's going to love this." She changed views. "The storage sector is protected by a heavy firewalls. Garrus if you would be so kind as to fix that."

"Already one step ahead of you Shepard."

"Good. A shot from the Normandy can level this place once we get out." Her hands moved over the keyboard.

"We hit the mother-load with this base." Jacob said as he was fiddling around with the controls. "Tons of sand passing out of here everyday. I wonder how much of it they managed to carry out before we hit them."

Shepard copied the data to her omni-tool. "We'll see in a moment. Garrus you done yet?"

He clicked the console twice. "Yep."

.

"Moment of truth guys." Garrus tapped a few icons and the huge reinforced doors slowly opened. By the time the light had fully filtered in and the internal lights had activated, all of them stood in the same spot, neck craning to see the full extent of the material that was laid before them. Half the warehouse, around the size of half an acre, was filled floor to ceiling with giant shipping containers marked with the Eclipse logo. Around three quarters of the crates was marked with Red Sand.

Jacob blinked a few times. "...That's... A LOT ... of blow."

The Wanderer took off his helmet and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, the way I see it we have several options. We could leave it here, blow it up, sell it and make a mint... or snort it all right now, forget about the Reapers, and die happy."

Shepard shot him a look that could kill.

He waved his hands in front of him defensively. "Jeez, I was joking. But seriously, that's more than what probably circulating around Illium, Omega and the Terminus combined." He approached one of the crates, pressed a button on one of them, and it opened. It was full with the drug.

Garrus did the same with another. It was also full. He reached down and raked his talons through the grainy substance and tested the texture. It was high-quality, just recently refined. Highly addictive and able to grant its user limited biotic abilities for a short period of time, Its exploitation leads to an untold number of deaths every year. Strangely enough however, the only race to be able to feel its effects are the humans.

"If we blow it up, there's a high risk that its going to spread into the atmosphere. What surprises me the most is why the Eclipse just let us take it. There's almost enough money here to start building a second Normandy."

"Something is definitely up. Spread out." Shepard ordered the team to circle around the warehouse. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was too easy. A stash this big had to have _some_ sort of booby trap or fail-safe in case the base ever fell to an attack, but there were none. There were literally sitting on blood money.

She called for the shuttle to pick them up.

"You said you found co-ordinates for another base like this?" she asked the Wanderer.

He replaced his helmet back over his head. "Yes. Just over in the next system. I find it weird how this base was lightly defended, co-ordinates for another base remain intact despite a systems purge, and the fact that they just got up and left without recovery. I half expected a bomb to go off, or reinforcements to arrive."

"We're either really lucky or about to die." She contacted the Normandy for a pick up. "Joker, send the shuttle to pick us up, were done here." She turned back to the squad. "Any last minute ideas about what should we do about the sand?"

The Wanderer smiled. "I say we take off and nuke the entire site from orbit. Its the only way to be sure."

Joker's laughter filled the channel.


	33. Chapter 33: Sand II

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

Honestly guys this chapter is completely filler and complete crap. I just needed to bridge the last chapter and the next one. The next one will be much longer and much better. Hang in there.**  
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"Joker run a scan on the surface. EDI, see what info you can gather from it. I want to know if I'm running into a small army."

Jokers hand flew expertly over the holographic console before finally resting to one side.

"EDI found some eezo trails exiting the atmosphere and heading for the mass relay, it looks like they've already packed up and left. Our scans can't pick up every breathing thing in the base but everything's dark and the factory appears to be non-operational."

EDI's hologram flared to life.

"I have also found high amounts of radiation in sector b12. The remnants of a small neutron purge it seems. From the current intensity it appears it was activated a few hours ago, around the same time you raided the first base."

Shepard leaned over to look at one of the monitors. "A neutron purge? Something is not adding up. First they scramble out of a major refinery, abandon most of their product and disappear, and now a neutron purge? Unless they are most definitely hiding a biological weapon or experiment of some kind. Why would a mercenary organization would develop bio-weapons?" She paused. "Are the radiation levels low enough to check out the rest of the site?"

EDI's hologram lit up. "The radiation was released within a small area. Your combat suit should protect you from small amounts of radiation. Avoid prolonged exposure."

"Alright EDI, call Mordin, were going to need him to check out whatever's left. Get the Wanderer up here as well."

.

The shuttle landed. The planet was much dryer than the previous; none of the lush tropical foliage was present. It was just ... grey. Grey sky, grey dirt, and grey buildings.

She unfolded her assault rifle and checked all frequencies. "Alright, the complex has gone dark but there could still be others within. Stay alert. Mordin, check for any evidence of experimentation. Wanderer, stay close this time. Lets go."

.

Every room they passed was empty with no sign that anyone had been living there. The mercenaries had time to pack up when she was still fighting at the first base. All safes and containers were empty. No drugs left behind. The base had been completely abandoned like the previous one.

Shepard entered the storage room and was unsurprised by the darkness. Activating her light, she looked down and hurriedly shuffled back a few steps; she had almost stepped on a body. She let her suits light penetrate the darkness. There were bodies everywhere.

She opened the com to the Wanderer. "Jesus, do you always have to leave such a mess wherever you go?"

"Shepard, I've been behind you since we entered the base. That's not me."

She turned and saw him standing directly behind her. She turned back to the bodies. "Then what the hell happened here? Mordin, see what you can find out."

Mordin had already started. In a few clicks and sweeps of his arm, the bio-signs and diagnostics from every body was compiled onto his onmi-tool.

"Hmmm. Most interesting. Twenty-two bodies. From appearance, most are Eclipse members, human, asari and batarian. Most have blunt force damage, no bullet wounds. Violent deaths. Bones broken. Literally beaten to submission and trampled on. Have seen this type of mercenary discipline, but not on this scale. Mutiny, or very possible punishment. Need tissue samples."

"Keep it quick, the faster we get out of this place the better." Shepard looked through the bases blueprints. The complex had a section devoted to "holding cells". The previous one did not.

Shepard opened the com. "Wanderer, take another look around and tell me if you find something. Mordin, follow me."

After a few minutes of searching they found the area they were looking for. The room was flanked on both sides by massive tanks and modular cell blocks teat resembled the ones from Purgatory. Some of the cell blocks were missing, probably lifted onto a frigate and whisked off the planet.

Shepard motioned to the cells. "Prisoners?"

Mordin inspected some of the equipment. "No. Experiments. Tanks used to grow living specimens. Holding cells to keep isolated. There." He pointed to one of the cells at the far end. One of the cells had been smashed open, and reinforced glass lay scattered over the floor. Mordin crouched down by the pod and inspected the shards. Spotting a sliver of tissue on the edge of a shard, he carefully sealed it and placed it in his pocket for testing aboard the Normandy.

"All done here Shepard." he said. Neutron purge had been activated close by. Do not recommend staying. Prolonged exposure to radiation harmful."

She nodded and signaled the Wanderer to meet them at the shuttle. She also radioed Joker.

"As soon as were off the planet, level the factory."

.

Once aboard the Normandy the team went their separate ways. Mordin rushed to the lab, eager to start tests on the tissue sample, the Wanderer retreated to his room aboard, as did Shepard. Completely preoccupied with the mercenaries' strange and complete absence she immediately contacted Aria. She explained the details of what she had encountered, or rather, not encountered, and relayed the fact that both refineries had been leveled. Although Aria's voice also carried some preoccupation about the absences, she was pleased with the results and sent her the promised information along with a generous sum of credits.

Pleased with the exchange she closed the channel she opened her terminal to view the information that was sent.

.

She gathered the data pads and headed down to the mess hall where the Wanderer was nearly certain to be at this hour. After taking a couple floors down she found his sitting at the table, reading another one of the antique novels Kasumi had lying around.

He looked up in time to see the commander rush at a hurried pace toward him. "Shepard?"

She dropped the data-pads on the table and sat down excitedly.

"What do you say about crashing a party?"


	34. Chapter 34 : Party I

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

Sorry for the long wait, school just finished and so I will be updating much faster.

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"Crashing a party?" he said looking down at a data-pad. "Now that's something I have not done in many, many years..." His voice trailed as his eyes scanned the pad in front of him. "I suppose this was included in the data Aria sent you?"

"Correct. The Eclipse leader, Dominic Solis, is holding a gathering at one of his villas." Shepard said excitedly. "He's invited all major investors of the revamped Eclipse group. Were talking about a bunch of rich bad-guys in one room. Not only will it give us a chance to find out who this guy is, but there's a good chance we can find out what they were hiding back at those refineries. We're killing two birds with one stone and looking spiffy while doing it. Of course I need someone to talk to the man besides me. I can get through security, but a face to face conversation is obviously out of the question." She paused for a breath. "So what do you think? Can you handle taking the Commander out on a date?" she said with a smirk.

"What I think?" he looked up. "I think no sane man would pass up the opportunity to take THE Jane Shepard on a fancy date. When is all this happening?"

"In a few of days. We're stopping by the Citadel quickly to get some appropriate clothes. Kasumi can help setting up our alias's and the rest is up to us. I would take a look at some of Dominic's background info while you have the time. He has quite the history."

"Will do Shepard."

.

"There he comes now"

The Wanderer stepped through the doors to the briefing room. He was cleanly shaven, hair cut, and impeccably dressed. A dress suit custom tailored to meet his tall muscular stature, it was midnight black and modeled after a 21th century earth style at his request. His deathly pale skin from when he had first boarded the Normandy had now warmed to a darker shade and his emerald eyes sharply contrasted with his attire. He was striking; the ladies on board found themselves staring and their imaginations spinning.

"Looking classy man."

The Wanderer turned to see Jacob and Garrus nearby.

"Thank you gentlemen," he said as he adjusted his cuffs, "have either of you seen the Commandan..."

Commander Jane Shepard entered the room followed by some of the Normandy's female crew squealing behind her. All at once the air was filled with whistles and drool. She had her hair done, hands manicured, some light makeup (at kasumi's request), and a skin-tight black dress that left nothing to the imagination.

Thane blinked a few times. "Oh.."

Garrus' mandibles fluttered in surprise. "My.."

Jacobs mouth was hanging open. "Sweet..Mother..of..."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her grin. "Guys, pick your jaws off the floor and your eyes off my chest unless you want a missing tooth and a black eye."

Joker averted his eyes thinking of his brittle bones, but gave into temptation and then looked back. Garrus completely forgot about calibrations. Jacob could be heard saying "the priiiiize...". Mordin was indifferent as usual. Only Thane and the Wanderer kept their composure, although giant smiles were shamelessly plastered on their faces.

"Jane, might I say you look absolutely divine this evening." He stepped forward, and with the grace of gentleman, bowed forward and kissed the back of her hand.

Shepard was take aback by the gesture; a life in the military left little time for courtship.

"My, my, flattery will get you anywhere. You're looking quite sharp yourself you know. You should wear this stuff more often."

"Forgive me, but I can't see myself raiding a mercenary base wearing a tux. Imagine if footage surfaced on the extranet?" He laughed softly and ran a hand through his hair. "Lets go over the details again, just to be sure."

"Alright. Your name is Solomon Farren. You're the head of Cryptox Industries. Your company mainly specializes in weapons testing and development. You were born on Earth but have spent the majority of your life among the stars. Kasumi fabricated several papers, witnesses and a couple of articles regarding you and your company and circulated them around the net. True to your nature, you've been described as a 'strong, silent type', who's prototype weaponry has become legendary among mercenaries and Spectres alike."

"Not bad. Not bad at all." he remarked. "Alright, your name is Allison Gunn, freelance mercenary, you run a small but talented band of mercs in the Terminus systems. Naturally, you're a bad ass, credited with taking out archangel himself when no other mercenary group could, and Donovan Hock when he screwed you over on a weapons deal," He said, glancing over to Garrus. "You know, it's _really_ not much different than what we have here..."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Eh, it's good enough. If anyone asks us questions, we don't have to stretch our minds too far for an answer." She checked her omni-tool. "Its time. Lets go."

.

Both the Wanderer and Shepard looked out of the shuttle window as they exited the Normandy and descended upon the planet. Two moons orbited this planet, a ball of rock and water. It was little more than giant grey slabs of bedrock surrounded by churning waves and towering cliffs. A strange place for a home.

His attention was soon drawn toward Shepard, who sat across from him in the shuttle. The dimmed lights cast a faint glow upon her features and her dark dress, amplifying the sense of allure and simple beauty that seemed to resonate from within her. Any guy would have killed to be in his shoes right now. From her body language he could tell she was nervous; she was constantly adjusting/fidgeting with her appearance and tapping her finger against the seat, which was surprising considering that she was never nervous. Ever. Even before a firefight she would more often get excited or impatient rather than fidgety. It was interesting to know that such a strong woman would rather jump into a deadly crossfire than attend a social gathering.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, "You seem agitated."

She rubbed the back of her head. "I don't know, it been a long time since I stepped into a dress. Kinda nervous. Kasumi gave me some makeup to hide some of the scars on my neck," she rubbed her right cheek. "and there's still this scar..."

He reached up to stop her hand. "Its fine." he said smiling. "You look beautiful."

She opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't want to ruin the moment. Outside the window, the ground rushed up to meet them before leveling off. They had landed.

The Wanderer rose, adjusted his suit and held out his arm. "Shall we?"

They linked arms and stepped out of the shuttle.

.

"Well, at least Mr. Solis has good taste."

Upon landing, the couple realized just how massive the villa was. Entirely made of glass and steel, it stretched across the barren rock like a giant crystal formation.

"It looks incredibly expensive, and incredibly fragile." she said, eyes squinting to see the rest of the structure as rays of light reflected from the cut glass. It was evening although the sun had not yet set.

The Wanderer looked around. "I'm surprised by the location. There's nothing else on this desolate rock." Noticing several guards approaching them, he pulled her closer.

"Lets hope Kasumi lives up to her reputation."

Heavily armored mercenaries stood sentry by the entrance and checked their identification. Upon scanning, the guards omni-tool gave two affirming beeps.

"Mr. Farren and Ms. Gunn, welcome to Mr. Solis' estate." The guard looked down at his omni-tool once more before continuing. "Mr. Farren, the private showing will commence at 2200 hours sharp. Please meet in the pre-arranged room at that time. An associate will assist you when the times comes. Both of you, please enjoy your time here this evening."

Both nodded and stepped into the building. Both were impressed with what they saw. Sprawling and majestic glass staircases spiraled from ground to top floor. A raised platform in the center, on it - an antique piano. Tasteful artwork adorned the walls and a bar stretched against the far wall. Crystals and all manner of light refractive lenses hung from the high ceiling. All and all, quite the place. After drinking in the magnificence of their surroundings, the duo slowly trotted toward the center of the grounds, where the majority of patrons present had congregated.

"So, what was the guard talking about before about a private showing? Care to enlighten me?" Shepard asked, surveying their surroundings.

The Wanderer slowed their walk until it was a snails pace. It had to seem they were there to enjoy themselves, not planning a raid. He looked up at a piece of artwork as he starting talking.

"As you know, this party was thrown to officially announce the new Eclipse to investors. Around half of those here at this party are. Additionally, I learned that those who hold the greatest amount of shares or who have invested massive sums of credits are specially invited to a private showing by Mr. Solis himself. From what I've filtered from Kasumi's sources, the tech is going to be impressive. An invaluable opportunity." They continued to walk.

Shepard pretended to be interested in a large statue they walked past and they paused once more. "So you made Kasumi conjure some creds out of thin air for you?"

He laughed and pointed to a painting to make it look like he was talking about it. "I wish it was that easy. No. I actually invested nearly 50 million credits last minute to get a spot in the showing."

Shepard laughed this time. "You can't be serious."

"I am."

The laughter stopped.

"You're full of surprises. If you don't mind me asking, how do you happen to stumble upon such a large collection of money? If I remember correctly, you gave us over 10 million to help with repairs and upgrades. 10 MILLION."

The Wanderer led her by the arm around and they strolled through the grounds under the wandering eyes of others at the party.

"When I left Earth after your species discovered the mass relays, I converted all of my Earth currency and precious metals I had saved up into credits to which then I divided up and placed in many separate banks across the known galaxy. How much interest do you think you can collect after a couple hundred years?"

"Hm, Smart. Unfortunately not all of us have the endowment of such a long life. You know before I..." the word always brought a shiver down her spine, "... died, I had quite the sum accumulating from selling all the extra loot I'd find lying around on missions. After I came back, the account was empty. Gone. Not a single credit left. I have no idea where it went or what happened to it."

The Wanderer gazed out of one of the windows into the blue sky overhead and Shepard immediately recognized his state of thought. When he was thinking, his face would be void of all emotion, and an intense expression would be carved onto his features, as if in stone.

"What if you could go back and leave off right when you woke up on the Cerberus station with all your credits sitting on your lap." He paused. "Would you do it?"

She wasted no time thinking about the question.

"No."

Surprised by the answer he received he turned back toward her.

"You know, that answer is what separates you from the rest of those at the party tonight. You have no idea how many times I've asked that question, and how many times people wished it were different." he said, "Just out of curiosity, why say no?"

"Why? Because if I had, I'm sure we would not be where we are now. If I had, I don't think I would have met you."

A small smile formed on his lips.

Shepard propped herself onto the railing in front of him. The sun shone from behind her as it began its decent downward.

_God, she looked absolutely stunning._

She leaned forward. "Let me ask you a question."

"Shoot."

"What surprises you the most about the galaxy? Past-present, anything at all."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"You're the first person to ask me that." He paused as he collected his thoughts. "What surprises me? Well, two things. First up: stupidity. You would think after all these years, people would exercise some common sense once in a while. I am constantly dumbfounded by the stuff some people do."

His response brought forth a fit of laughter from her.

"And the second," his face returned to the contemplative expression from before, "... is, for lack of a better term, love."

Shepard did not expect his answer. "What do you mean?"

"Romantic or otherwise, it seems to pop out of the most unlikely places and the most unlikely times. I've seem a lot of things from just about everywhere, and nothing quite surprises me like love. Able to connect complete strangers from two different worlds and create a bond that defies conventional reasoning. It's truly remarkable."

Shepard motions him to sit next to her. He props himself up next to her on the railing and they both face the interior of the building where the majority of the gathering is taking place.

"If I have to say one thing though, your have an insane amount of self control." She said leaning on him for support, "That is what separates YOU from the rest at the party. Despite millions at your fingertips, one would never think you had such large funds. You arrived on the Normandy with nothing except what you wore and food supplies. I'm sure you've seen the corrupting power of money and power. Don't call me creepy for telling you this but I did some background checks on some of those here tonight. You see that man in the gray suit, the one talking with the batarian? He's the CEO of Syntex Co. He made nearly 100 million last year, at the cost of working 14 hour days. He lost his wife and his kids from his work addiction. You see that guy in the black and purple suit at the back? Before he got into the arms trade he was a middle class guy with a simple but happy life. Was engaged, good worker, everyone liked him. After he got involved everything went to hell and he turned into a complete prick. I'm surprised Solis invited him tonight, they are not on good terms. Anyways my point is that people forget that although money makes the world turn, it's love that makes the ride worthwhile."

The Wanderer reached around her waist and pulled her closer. "You know, your starting to sound more and more like me."

"What can I say? You seem to be rubbing off on me" she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Good, definitely good."


	35. Chapter 35 : Party II

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

Holy, sorry about the update time, life has been busy. I have actually completed part 37, 38 and 40, but I just need to format them.******  
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_"The man of the hour has arrived."_

Stepping out of a white gleaming transport shuttle, Dominic Solis casually strode through the courtyard into the waiting arms of security and immediately ascended the raised platform at the center of the hall. He had short black hair, a dark blue suit and a smug expression placed on his sharp features. A man with confidence.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said in a booming voice, pausing to gather everyone's attention. Within seconds he was within earshot of every being within the building.

"Just a few short months ago, the Eclipse group was on the brink of destruction due to some poor decisions from some unsavory individuals, and the work of the councils loyal dogs."

Snickers passed through the crowd. No doubt he was talking about Spectres.

"When our 'great leaders' failed to get a grip on the rapidly changing circumstances, I knew someone had to take action, so I rose to the challenge." He raised a fist. "As one man I was helpless, however with the support of my fellow comrades in arms and all of you here this evening, we have recaptured control of the Eclipse from those who would oppress us and reforge the true spirit of the Eclipse mercenary group."

Cheers.

"No longer will we squander our men shipping illegal sand and element zero all over the galaxy, no, that job is for the pirates and the filthy beings the inhabit the outer reaches of the terminus systems..."

As a side note, his coup d'état was anything but peacefully. Himself and those loyal to him had stalked and slaughtered all higher-ups of the Eclipse including those loyal to them. It was messy. The red sand issue was interesting though, perhaps they were ready to liquidate all of their inventory just as Shepard showed up and wiped the base out.

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are moving toward more legal ventures..."

A cry rose from the crowd. He put out his hand to silence them.

"I understand many of you are worried how profit will be gained. Do not worry, we have a plan. After our red sand inventory was.." He cleared his throat. "eliminated..."

Ha. He was right.

"...we chose to build ourselves up back from the brink of dissolution, and find another way to carry on and do what we do best. By expanding our business into the public sector, we have taken what our competitors have not. Protection and enforcement in the public spaces. With more people, come more work and more profit. Not only have we cleaned up our image, but also earning the reputation of a trustworthy and reliable service. Our profits have actually risen 250% over the last two months, compared to the last six. The Eclipse mercenary group is becoming a name unto itself..."

Hm. This was QUITE the development. Out of the major mercenary groups in the galaxy, there were the Eclipse, Blue Suns, Blood pack, Grim Skulls and the Tiburón Rojo. The Grim Skulls were mostly wiped out by Seran Arterius. The Tiburón Rojo were a group based on Earth, but still in its infancy. Blue Suns specialized in "private security" and the Blood Pack on drugs. From what he was hearing the Eclipse were moving out of "private security", the blue suns' business, and moving out of the drug trade, the Blood Pack business, in order to peruse a new type of income. Because of this, each mercenary group now had their own exclusive area of speciality, leaving each group with no competition in their chosen field. It was risky and dangerous, as the former Eclipse group had been making billions from their ventures all around the market. What would they gain from doing this?

"..and with a trusted name, we are planning to release our own line of armor and weaponry, further expanding into a market none of our competitors have gone before. It will be risky, I understand, but I believe... I know, that will be triumph and go where the Eclipse have never gone before."

Applause. Dominic Solis gave a polite bow.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen I ask you to enjoy yourselves tonight, for new winds are blowing, and this change could very well mean a change for all of us. Life and death it seems, is nothing but a statistic behind the great Eclipse that shall cover this galaxy." He gave a bow and exited the stage amid the clapping of those around him.

Wait...What?

That last line worried him.

**.**

"Mr. Farren?"

The Wanderer spun around to face the speaker. It was an Asari, elegantly dressed and looking quite beautiful. She looked slightly surprised to find herself staring into emerald green eyes.

"Yes..?" he said, inquisitively.

"The... the private showing will start soon. Please follow me."

Nodding toward Shepard he followed the Asari toward the back of the atrium, through double doors and down a flight of steps. At the end of a long hallway stood a large metal door next to a security checkpoint.

"As per safety and confidential purposes, we ask that all omni-tools or any other electronic devices capable of recording be left here outside the demonstration room. You can reclaim them after the demonstration is over." Said the Asari.

"Of course."

He removed his omni-tool, earpiece, and stepped through an array of scanners. After gaining entrance he was ushered into a room with at least a dozen other men. Quickly glancing at the others present, his mind brought up information about each of them and reminded him that these persons were not normal. Nearly all had committed atrocious crimes to reach their current status. Had he been able to bring a weapon to the party, he would have found no excuse not to blow the brains from their skulls right after Shepard had found what she wanted. The galaxy would be a batter place without them.

Glancing around once more he took a look at the room itself. The room itself was more of a bunker than a showroom. Surrounded by rock and metal, there was just one door in and one door out. Mr. Solis had taken measures to secure his valuables.

"Gentlemen."

All of them turned to the sound of his voice.

"I thank you all for being here tonight for a special sneak preview of the firepower you have invested in. I assure you will not be disappointed by the toys you are about to see here in the next few moments."

He snapped his fingers and at once everything moved. Bright lights illuminated the room, an assistant took off the mercenary's jacket, while another started typing commands into a console. The walls themselves were revealed to be holographic sensitive panels. They were now surrounded by screens. One of the walls revealed itself to be a clever combination of polarized reinforced glass and holograms that separated them from the weapons.

"Now then, shall we begin?"

.

Shepard was not a party person.

Ok... Not a FORMAL party person.

Trying to act causal and maintain a acceptable level of small talk with rich obnoxious folk was not her idea of a good time. All the fake smiles and insincere compliments made her want to gag. While trying to avoid everyone while simultaneously not appearing too distant, she cautiously weaved her way through the crowd as she hoped to somehow find a way to get past security.

After making a couple of rounds around the complex she had determined the only way to gain access around the sections restricted by guest was to get to the security room and gain the appropriate codes from there. Unfortunately the security room was locked and several security personnel lay within. But, as always, she had a plan.

First up, she needed the required supplies. She hit the bar and asked the bartender for a drink. Nothing too strong, but enough of it to cause some damage. Next, she went outside. Causally making her way over to one of the unused transport shuttles when no one was looking, she popped open the maintenance door to the engine and pulled a select few wires out of the engine cooling mechanism and forcefully sealed shut the dump valve. Closing the small door, she entered the drivers seat and started it, typed in a few commands to disable internal failsafes and walked back to the party.

Something that Garrus had once shown her, she had left the transport shuttle running as it dumped its heat and waste products into itself. It was only a matter of time before it suffered an engine meltdown and the ensuring explosion would attract security and bystanders alike. A most excellent diversion.

Waiting patiently near the security room door, she brought the drink to her lips, but did not sip. Instead she waited for security to come streaming through the door. Seconds later, in a bright flash of light and billowing smoke, a transport shuttle in the lot outside burst into flames and exploded. Naturally everyone at the party flocked to the scene outside, forcing all security to try to contain the situation. The door next to her opened and out poured at least five mercenaries. Quickly slipping in after no more personnel came running out she quietly made her way to the room.

.

"... Our next item is the Gyro v2 missile, shoulder fired and capable of flying a hypersonic speed, it delivers it payload faster than you can hear or react to it. Can be dumb fired or with a fire-and-forget mode, it tracts its target through an optical sensor placed at the front of the missile." Dominic Solis rolled his sleeves up as he handed one of his assistants the weapon.

"I suggest you all shield your eyes." he said before commanding the mercenary to fire.

The Wanderer reached into his suit and donned an antique pair of mirrored aviators.

The missile then fired, streaked fast and low, and then detonated upon impact as it struck a structure of metal and wood. There was a brilliant but brief flash of light, and then a explosion. The wood that had not been disintegrated, had burst into flames, and the metal had warped and shattered.

Superheated shock wave caused from rapid air expansion. Not bad.

.

Shepard quietly walked down the hall until she reached the security room. The room was dark, but the light from dozens of monitors lit up the room enough to move around. Assuming the room was empty, she made her way around the screens...

A cough was heard.

Shepard jumped back into cover faster than it took legion to calculate the first two hundred digits of Pi. Peering around the corner she saw a lone mercenary sitting in front of a computer.

That was too close. She had foolishly let her guard down.

Removing one of her high heeled shoes she crept up to him and clubbed him in the back of the head and caught his body before the mercenary slumped over. Gingerly keeping him upright she quickly transferred the buildings security codes on to her omni-tool.

No doubt the code transfer and login would be logged... They would find out what she had done... Unless...

She poured half of the drink into the computers CPU unit and watched it sizzle and fry. The screen blacked out. She then splashed some of it on the mercenaries face, wiped her fingerprints from the glass, set it right beside the unconscious body and left.

Blaming it on a new guy who wakes up with vodka on his lips and a blasting headache? Not bad.


	36. Chapter 36 : Party III

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

**Hey, haven't updated in a couple of months, but i'm still working on it. I got this week off so I might be able to release another by next week. Fingers crossed.  
**

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Demonstration was over. Everyone shuffled out of the room.

The Mercenary wiped the sweat from his brow and gave a sigh of relief with the knowledge that he was alone again. He walked over to the gleaming metal table in the center of the room and began to pack up the pieces of equipment that had been displayed to the powerful and wealthy investors of the Eclipse mercenary group. Content and certain with the assumption that he was no longer under the others' scrutinizing gazes, he started whistling a tune while cleaning up after the demonstration, completely oblivious to the fact that...

One man had stayed.

"... .. Mr. Solis..."

The voice emerged from the silence like a clap of thunder. Startled, the mercenary immediately straightened and unconsciously flared his biotics once he realized he was not alone. Not used to being crept on, few were quiet enough to escape his ears.

He spun around and was surprised to see a tall man in a dark suit, unarmed and still.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you." The man in black said apologetically.

"What? No, " the mercenary breathed a sigh or relief. "no, not at all..."

His heart rate had skyrocketed.

"I was just surprised, I thought I was alone. What can I do for you?"

"I wondering If I can have a word with you. Privately." the man said, motioning toward a security camera that was placed high in the corner of the room.

"A word? Oh, of course. Please call me Dominic, Mr..." he said, extending his hand.

The Wanderer shook his hand. "Farren. Solomon Farren." He said.

"Ah, Farren... A.. European name. Translates... to journey or to wander, am I correct?"

Wow... He was good.

"Why, yes. That's absolutely correct. I'm surprised, not many are familiar with human surnames. Did you grow up on Earth?"

"That I did." The mercenary nodded. "I was raised in the South Americas for most of my life, and pushed through as much education as humanly possible... " The mercenary laughed quietly to himself.

"Shall we talk in my office?"

.

The two of them stepped into Dominic Solis' office. It was largely sparsely furnished, aside from a few trinkets and holos of Earth. An enormous clock adorned one wall and pictures covered another.

"You know, you never told me where you were from." the mercenary said, before sitting in his chair.

"Well," The Wanderer said as he sunk into a leather chair, "I've spent most of my time on Earth. I don't have really have a single home though, I've travelled all over the globe..."

That was not a lie. In the Wanderer's lifetime, out of all the planets he had ever resided in, he had spent the most time on planet Earth. Crash landing at the beginning of human evolution caused him to be stranded there until they developed the technology to raise themselves to the stars. I.E. A VERY long time.

Dominic booted up the holo at his desk and quickly looked up information he had on "Solomon Farren" before they talked business. He had never met him previously, so a quick refresher was needed. Of course unbeknownst to him, all information he had on this man had been painstakingly tweaked and carefully generated by combining fabricated and truthful content.

"Ah, a fellow earthling!" He said, laughing. "It seems like every human I meet these days is from some far off colony somewhere. Finally good to meet someone like me!"

The Wanderer gave a slight nod. He was nowhere near alike to the man behind the desk, but he played along.

Dominic Solis skimmed through information about "Solomon Farren". He was indeed from Earth with no definite place of residence. Appearing out of thin air just a few years ago, he was rumoured to be worth a fortune... A heavy investor of the newer Eclipse group, he was listed as CEO of Cryptox Industries and ... wait. Cryptox industries?

THE Cryptox Industries?

The room suddenly got very warm. The mercenary adjusted his collar and looked at the man seated in front of him. He had already been following performance reports for Cryptox Industries over the last couple of weeks. Dollar signs began appearing in his head.

He swallowed.

"Is something the matter?" The Wanderer said, preoccupied by the sudden lack of speech.

The mercenary cleared his throat. "No, no, everything's fine." He said almost excitedly, "So, what can I help you with today Solomon?"

The Wanderer was sure the man in front of his had been surprised by what information he had seen on him. Kasumi really did live up to her reputation.

"Well Mr. Solis..."

"Please", the merc said, interrupting him, "call me Dominic."

He nodded. "Of course, Dominic. Normally I would send a representative from my company in order to do business, however given tonight's unique circumstances and the status of the host, I have taken the liberty of dealing with you directly."

He paused and could easily see the mercenary wringing his hands excitedly. It seems Mr. Solis liked to keep himself well informed, even if the information he had raked through was mostly bogus. Nevertheless he had already hooked him. Both Kasumi and Legion had helped him inject fantastic stories of his "company's" supposed accomplishments and clients into the extranet in hope that some sort of supposed popularity would arise. The results had been extraordinary. He had actually revived numerous real world requests for contact, including a request for an interviews from the Westerlund news channel and other business feeds. He had no idea how they did what they did, but he was thankful. It may even pave the way for an actual business in the future. If he was still alive that is.

"As you undoubtedly know," The Wanderer said with an air of cool, "Cryptox Industries specializes in the research and development of... unique munitions and equipment. Custom tailored to our clients specifications and preferences, we develop and design personal armaments to those who we believe, at our discretion, possess exceptional qualities to be worthy of wielding one of our weapons. The majority of our clients operate within the special tactics and reconnaissance division of the council, and rarely do we extend and offer our services to others. However, due to special circumstances, I sit here today with an offer."

"And what are you offering?"

"An opportunity. Our offer is that. We are not arming your mercenary group, nor are we supplying equipment to your security forces. We are here to ask YOU, out of our singular interest, if YOU ALONE would be interested in an rare opportunity to have our company design a powerful and completely unrivalled weapon for your hands and YOURS only. We positively do not accept requests from outsiders, as the only way for anyone to have this opportunity would be from a personal and exclusive invitation from us directly. I will not lie to you, our prices _are_ steep. The development of arms with technologies unavailable on the market make it so, and our clients are never disappointed."

The Wanderer brought his hands together.

"The choice ultimately rests in your hands. If you accept, there are conditions. If you do not, then I tear up my proposal and what done is done." The Wanderer paused. "You will be given 30 days to think about your decision. After that, our invitation is withdrawn. No extensions, no excuses."

He leaned back onto his chair, letting the mercenary think about what he had said. The short time period would allow them to stay close to him and gain more information about this man.

Dominic Solis was barely able to contain his excitement. From what information he had gathered, Cryptox industries had already established a highly prestigious and exclusive circle in the underworld, as the only way to get your hands on one of their futuristic weaponry was to receive an invitation directly from them. It was outrageously costly, but their work was nothing short of legendary. Fantastic stories of their unique weaponry had surfaced over the extranet, as those who had been given an invitation and who had the funds, quickly rose in popularity and power.

"And if I would like to see a few examples of your work?..."

"I would show you this." The Wanderer said, reaching into a pocket on his person and withdrawing an OSD.

"Naturally, I have brought with me some of our past works if you wish to see proof of my company's reputation, however the examples on the OSD are encrypted spec prints and not the actual weapons themselves. The originals are either with their rightful owners or have been destroyed. We ensure that no physical copies or replicas exist of a clients product while said client is in possession of said product. That being said, a _very_ gracious client of ours has given me permission to showcase their weapon for your viewing pleasure tonight. It took some amount of persuasion and was not easy. I have brought the weapon with me tonight and is currently being held by your security. Would you like to see it?"

.

The guard carefully placed a shiny metallic locked case on the cold metal table, nodded to the mercenary leader, and left the room leaving just the two of them.

"May I?"

"Certainly."

The Wanderer walked over to the sleek metal case and turned it to face him. Inputting a five digit code onto its surface, the case gave an audible clicking sound before unclasping its binding. The Wanderer opened its lid. Within was the WX-23 Sniper rifle. It was Garrus' weapon, and he had not been happy with their decision. He had asked the Wanderer why they couldn't have borrowed Legions rifle. Shepard had replied that she did not think that ripping Mr. Solis' arm from his socket would prove popular at a formal gathering. He had reluctantly agreed.

The Wanderer picked up the rifle, dissembled it, cleaned each part, applied lubricant, and reassembled the gun with mechanical precision. He then examined the scope that had accompanied the rifle, and made microadjustments with a fine set of screwdrivers.

"It seems our client takes good care of their weapon." The Wanderer said with a smirk. "It also seems that they have been exercising it regularly."

Hoisting it in his hands and handing it to the mercenary, he recounts the weapons features. Exactly the same words he has used when first introducing it to the crew aboard the Normandy.

"This is the WX-23 Sniper rifle. Semi-automatic, 10 rounds a thermal clip. Ultra-low recoil and nearly soundproof. Extremely accurate. It features two modes of firing. Standard and assassination. Standard mode fires a high damage shot that can dispatch pretty much anything in one or two hits. However, the assassination mode is the real gem in this crown..."

He flicks a switch that's close to the trigger and the barrel expands further, an array of small blue coloured lights on the barrel stretch out.

"In assassination mode, the sniper round changes from its standard "heavy" round to a "sliver" round. The round is 1/4 of a millimeter wide at max. Using a special mass accelerator taken from Geth tech... "

He droned on.

.

A spent thermal clip falls from the sniper rifle, its red hot colour briefly singeing the floor as it bounces once and rolls to a stop. Another clip appears in the hand of the mercenary, quickly finding its intended destination and slides home. The trigger is depressed as soon as the satisfying click is heard, and the barrel of the sniper once again gives way to a volley of fire erupting from deep within the mechanisms of the weapon. Death personified exits the weapon, at speeds that would send even the Wanderer to his knees. At last, the gun falls silent. Another clip falls. One Bounce. Roll. Stop.

The barrel of the sniper rifle lies in the hands of Dominic Solis, having just unleashed destruction upon a group of unfortunate training dummies and penetration testing materials. The mercenary runs a hand over its sleek frame and lays it to rest upon its safety switch. As absurd as it sounded, he did not want to stop. He wanted to the continue. Its balance of power and accuracy had no equal, and its recoil equal to a gentle thud against the shoulder. Whoever owned this weapon was a lucky son-of-a-bitch.

The Wanderer smiled proudly. Like a master craftsmen pouring its heart and soul into a masterpiece, the ultimate reward was seeing its masterpiece admired by those who appreciated it.

"So," The Wanderer said with a smirk, "what do you think?".

The mercenary said nothing for a few seconds, his gaze never leaving the rifle.

"I think.. I think this is the greatest piece of technology that has ever touched my hands. I am extremely embarrassed to have made you sit through my private showing, when your company crafts such superior and superbly designed items..."

"Please, there is no need. My company simply provides has a very specific set of tools for a very specific type of people and their work. There is no competition between us on the market as we cater for vastly different groups of people."

"Still Solomon, this is truly amazing. Who owns this wondrous piece of technology?" the mercenary said, handing the weapon over the Wanderer.

"Due to confidentiality agreements I cannot reveal to you the owners name. I'm sure you understand."

The Wanderer disassembled it, and placed the gun back in its case. He then sealed it and had it sent back to security.

"Yes, of course. Now I see why even a hefty price tag matters not when dealing with your company. They are priceless." The mercenary rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "In regards to the other examples you said you had..."

The Wanderer held up the OSD.

"Lets go back to my office." said the mercenary.

.

The Wanderer plugged in the OSD and transferred the contents to the holo. The ambient lights in the room dimmed and then exploded in a display of brilliant colours. Several files opened up. The seven pieces of equipment he had designed for Shepards' team appeared one by one.

Cracking his knuckles, the Wanderer began to list off each piece of equipment and the accompanying specifications and abilities of each weapon by memory.

"the WX-32... features higher damage against armor and shields.. bolt-action..."

"This is the WX-99 Heavy Shotgun... packets of ammunition instead of heat sinks..."

"the WX-200... heavy-weapon ... rotating forward barrel to ensure dissipation of heat..."

Dominic was beside himself as the Wanderer presented each piece of equipment. In his semi-delirious state, he was barely able to comprehend how the man in front of him was able to achieve such technological feats, as the damage ratios and performance specs had yet to even spring about the much larger and well known weapons developers and manufacturers. It was if he had stumbled upon technology from the far future... or the far past.

The Wanderer's hand fell to the surface of the table in front of him and brushed his fingers over the controls on its transparent surface. The weapon on display melted into a multicoloured light and then switched to the last holo.

That's when he noticed the change.

He could instantly tell the mercenary was on edge. The mercenary's eyes had changed from excited and calm, to a look of surprise and then animosity. The Wanderer narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to decipher the look that played across the mercenaries features. It was clear he had seen it before. The reaction from the recondition was of utter disdain. He decided to continue with his presentation and then gauge the humans' response.

"This..."

"I know what this is." The mercenary said interrupting him dryly, bringing his arms to the table in front of him. "Dubbed the 'Mass Effect Hammer', The head of the hammer houses a specialized mass effect generator that emits a anti-gravity pulse when it hits something. The pulse spreads outward from a kinetically activated mechanism, distorting the surrounding space with the mass effect fields. The weapon is both dangerously fatal and effective at close quarters. It is a super melee weapon, capable of ripping apart room full of my best men."

The Wanderer was at a loss of words although he suspected as much. No doubt they would have missed a camera somewhere, and the condition of the dead mercenaries they left behind would have told much.

"I also know who owns this particular piece of technology." His voice was dripping with poison.

He sat and booted up his console. Various images appeared on screen before disappearing altogether, images of the Normandy and its crew members, before one image filled the entire display. It was an image captured from a video camera placed high on a wall in a compound. In the center was a familiar looking human spectre in all her glory, hammer in hand, its surface recently splattered with blood. The remains of what appeared to be a mercenary bearing the Eclipse logo lay at her feet.

"Commander Shepard."

He stared at the image as if it was the source of all evil in the galaxy. "Isn't that right Solomon?"

The Wanderer neither spoke nor nodded to acknowledge his question. He was thinking.

He was not preoccupied with the mercenaries reaction, as he had expected it and it only proved that this headhunt for Shepard came from the top of command. What preoccupied him was the image on the screen the mercenary had displayed. It was not Shepard standing triumphantly atop the body of her defeated adversary, nor was it Urdnot Grunt standing behind her who could have only been described as overjoyed from the thrill of the fight. No. It was the lone figure at the other end of the photo, the one crouched atop a metal shipping crate seemingly surveying the field in front of them. The form was blurry through magnification although its humanoid frame could easily be identified. The lone figure was covered in black armor.

He was looking at himself.

His first instinct told him to kill the man in front of him and pump enough lead into the computer systems to bring down a small spacecraft. Immediately deciding against this decision he reminded himself that times were different and although he had shown up in a photograph, the man in front of him did not connect his present self with armor clad figure from the image. The balance of power still rested in his hands.

"So it seems." He said, smirking. "But tell me Dominic, how you have come to know all this. Most of our products are not public knowledge; and if you don't mind me noticing, you seem to harbour a morbid fascination with Commander Shepard. A grudge perhaps?"

The mercenary's eyes narrowed. "What does it matter to you Solomon? Why should some minor research on a famous spectre seem suspicious?"

The Wanderer kept his composure.

"It doesn't. I was simply curious as to how you knew so much about that weapon. Nothing more, nothing less. And as for asking about Commander Shepard, I simply noticed you reacted negatively to the mention of her. That was it. I apologize if I enticed any anger."

That seemed to calm him down. He sighed and scratched his forehead.

"No, no, I should be the one apologizing, I shouldn't have acted up." He closed the holo. "If you must know, the famous Commander was a bit of a nuisance for us in the past; particularly when she came to be involved in some of Eclipse's .." He cleared his throat. " .. more questionable activities."

"It looks like she won't be a problem any longer."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Well, seeing how the Eclipse group is moving toward more legal ventures."

"Oh, yes, of course." He said sheepishly.

He motioned for the Wanderer to sit.

"Well Solomon, You've proved yourself a persuasive businessman. I've made my decision. I wish to accept your proposal."

The Wanderer smiled. He had sold a man something that did not exist. Then again, nothing had proved otherwise.

"Excellent! Unfortunately I have none of the formal paperwork required to set up our agreement with me tonight, but I will get in touch with you as soon as humanly possible." They both laughed. "But yes, you _will_ be contacted within twenty-four hours. Not long from now you will the proud owner of one unique and custom-tailored weapon that will go unmatched for years to come."

Dominic nodded. "As much as I sound like a child right now, I can barely contain my excitement!"

Pausing for a moment to get up from his chair, the man walks to a desk on the far side of the office and returns with a red wooden box. Carefully opening its lid, the inside was revealed to be filled with a selection of fine smokables.

"In honor of our partnership, could I interest you in a cigar? Hand rolled from Earth."

A cigar? The last time he had a cigar was ages ago. Not only were cigars normally difficult to come-across on the multi-specie market, but to find ones from an original crop from Earth were even rarer. He took one.

Dominic removed one for himself and carefully closed the box.

"If you can guess what part of the world it came from, I'll give you another. So far no one has been able to guess the correct answer. It seems its class seems to be dying out."

The Wanderer ran the thick cigar under his nose to inhale its unique fragrance. Indeed from Earth, its rich aroma seemed to overpower his sense of smell.

He smiled. It was a Cuban cigar.


	37. Chapter 37 : Party IV

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

**Hey hey hey, sat down today and literally typed out 6 pages cause I felt like it. Enjoy the (extremely fast) update.  
**

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"... and that's when I took that holo..."

With negotiations that secured future contact, the Wanderer used the free time to ask about the abundance of holos the mercenary leader had of Earth. Although he never liked mixing business with pleasure, he himself had been all over the planet, and was eager to learn about the changes that had taken place since he had last set foot on its surface. Unfortunately, since his days on Earth, pollution levels and overpopulation had stripped most of the Earth bare from its original, untarnished brilliance. While every human enjoyed a longer and better life then ever before, the gap between rich and poor widened daily. Advanced nations have eliminated most genetic disease and pollution while less fortunate regions had not progressed beyond 20th century technology, and are often smog-choked, overpopulated slums. Sea levels had risen two meters in the last 200 years, and violent weather is common due to environmental damage inflicted during the late 21st century. The past few decades, however, have seen significant improvement due to recent technological advances. This was, if any, a comforting thought.

The Wanderer walked over to one particular image that piqued his interest. It was an image of luscious rolling green hills with a small dwelling atop a hill as the sun rolled high through a cloudless sapphire sky. It brought a smile to his lips as it reminded him of a place long ago...

A memory began pulling itself free from his mind as the image triggered long lost experiences. As he shook his head to subconsciously clear his head, the voice of the mercenary rose to fill it.

"Beautiful isn't it? This image was taken exactly 78 years ago by my grandfather in Italy. He had inherited the small estate from his parents, whom they from the previous generation and so on. He said it was his little patch of heaven on Earth. One of the only places on Earth where he could think straight. Its a shame it no longer exists, the land was bulldozed not long thereafter to make space for a high-rise. Sometimes I think It's hard to find natural peace in the galaxy nowadays. I mean sure, you could get a condo somewhere on the edge of the galaxy, but its just not the same. Back then, everything was just so.. just so..."

"So simple?"

"Exactly. Its seems nowadays its just more money, more problems."

"I couldn't agree with you more Dominic." The Wanderer sighed and put down the holo. "But let me ask you something." He turned to face the man. "If you could give up everything you have. Everything. Your money, your home, your power as the leader of the Eclipse, all of this, " He said, motioning to the room they stood in, "to be able to walk right into that picture, right now at this moment, would you do it?"

The Eclipse leader was silent for a moment as he rubbed his chin and gazed at the holo thoughtfully. He seemed to struggle internally, as he turned to look out the window.

"To be honest with you Solomon... I don't know." He was silent.

The Wanderer was perplexed by the man. He had expected him to be quite different. He had assumed he was fake, a rich man with a typical personality that often went along with it. What he was revealing was someone much more than face value. Killing this man now will be harder. That's why he hated interacting with people. As long as you stayed away, you could make up whatever justifications in your head to end a life. Once a persons true colours are revealed however, it became extremely hard.

The Wanderer tapped the ash from the cigar. "I appreciate your honesty, Dominic. Not many would give that answer."

"And not many people would ask that question."

The Wanderer nodded in agreement but was silent. Both were true.

"You said your family was well to do?" the warrior asked.

His back was still turned. "Yes, my family was wealthier than most and could afford to push me through a higher education. It is a shame though, many of the others I knew as a child around me could not even dream of going back to school. Life in the big cities and the slums became bleak when one had to fight just to survive. Education was the last thing you thought about when you were on the streets. You either joined a gang or the military. I was fortunate enough to have family that didn't want me to do either and scrapped enough money together for me to stay in school. They sacrificed everything to put me in school, and I suppose it paid off. I couldn't have made it to this without them."

"I applaud you Dominic. I know exactly what you mean. I'm glad there are still those who retain their former selves after so much time."

"Thank you Farren. I enjoy conversing with you if you must know. Its a welcome break after talking about money and politics for so long. If you don't mind, would you like a tour of the estate? I want to make sure my guests tonight aren't sneaking around places uninvited."

Sounded like something Shepard would do. Hopefully Dominic didn't accidentally bump into "Allison Gunn" or he would be in for a nasty surprise.

"Absolutely."

.

The Wanderer was peering into probably one of the grandest estates ever seen by his eyes. Currently he was looking into one of the many lounges that made themselves accessible, fully furnished with the newest conveniences at your fingertips.

"So, Solomon, You said youv'e been all over the galaxy. Where exactly?"

"Well I spent a good portion on Earth, most notably the Mediterranean, as well as the Americas and the arctic. Ive never been one for heat. Notable off-world planets include Eden Prime, Feros, Noveria, Jatar, Bekenstein, Ilos..."

The last one slipped from his mouth before he had a chance to stop it.

The mercenary stopped in his tracks.

"Ilos? Are you serious? That's the Prothean planet right? The one that Commander Shepard followed Saren Arterius to?"

The Wanderer subconsciously adjusted his attire without losing his cool.

"Yes, I had the privilege to visit the planet after the incident with a good friend of mine who lead the research team there. It was absolutely surreal."

It seemed the mercenary was satisfied with his answer.

"Indeed, it seems like you match your name perfectly. You really are a Wanderer." he said, as he lead the warrior around the many rooms of the mansion.

"Well if you must know, not all those who wander are lost..."

.

Walking down one of the many halls that existed in the complex, the Wanderer happened to glance up at a rather large clock that nearly covered nearly half the wall space. Curiously also the wrong time, he asked the host about it.

"Dominic, if you don't mind me asking, that analogue clock seems a little out of place."

"Ah, I'm glad you noticed. This clock is not exactly the clock you're used to seeing as it does not actually tell the correct time. It's a symbolic clock face, maintained since 1947 by the board of directors of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists at the University of Chicago on Earth. Originally the closer the clock was to midnight, the closer the world is estimated to be to global disaster. Or nowadays, a galaxy wide disaster."

The Wanderer looked closer at the clock. Its giant hands were unmoving and silent on their place upon the wall.

"Its five minutes to midnight. What makes the galaxy-wide condition at such a deteriorated state? Things have actually seem to be improving. Peace between Geth and Quarians should have brought back the time."

"Oh it has."

"And we are still only five minutes away?"

The mercenary paused as if unsure whether or not to continue.

"Do you know of the Reapers?"

The Wanderer decided to play dumb.

"I've heard of them."

"I don't like thinking about such things, but it's something were are going to have to face eventually. My contacts are saying most of the Alliance and Citadel fleets are preparing for their arrival. Even the Blue Suns leader Zaeed Massani had ordered mobilization. These things trouble me." He looked sullen before suddenly perking up.

"Actually" the mercenary said, "I just realized if you brought a companion with you tonight, I have kept them waiting terribly. You should have told me!"

"Yes,I did bring someone, but I'm sure she is keeping herself entertained. She understands the scope of my work."

"Ah, someone as high-calibre as yourself?" he asked.

"Indeed. Her name is Allison Gunn..."

Dominic's face lit up. "Ah! the woman who brought down Archangel and Donovan Hock! I best she's a feisty one."

He had to agree.

"Well, I can say she's quite the handful alright. She's a very headstrong woman."

"If you wouldn't mind introducing us later, Iv'e been wanting to meet ever since the Archangel incident."

Absolutely not. That would be catastrophic.

"... Ill see what I can do."

.

"...And here are our weapon testing labs."

Dominic opened the door to one of the labs to reveal the interior. Various instruments and machines filled the room from top to bottom looking all very new and state-of-the-art. If the Wanderer ever wanted to create new works of his own in the future, this room would be ideal. It would be costly, but well worth the investment.

"Impressive. You had your people testing your weapons here?"

"Yes actually, this complex lies parallel to the rest of the Estate. I was able to live and work without setting foot off the planet. The reason you saw so many rooms was because most of the staff lived on-site for extended periods of time as well."

The Wanderer contemplated the idea. The circumstances were Ideal, having a full staff working for an extended period of time on a rock plateau in the middle of nowhere. All the extra space and privacy made sense. However he wondered why none of the usual technicians were present. Work could have easily continued within the soundproofed walls. Also, something else bugged him. Just before leaving the room, the Wanderer spotted something that was not right. Large vials of liquid. Not entirely out of place, as they could have been testing new ballistic gels or perhaps a new lubricant for weapons. However some of the vials were large enough to be tanks of liquid, tanks that emptied in an adjacent room by means of pipes extending through the insulated walls. Some of the vials were labelled with a variety of names one would expect to find in Mordin's lab, not in a weapons testing lab. The wall that the pipes followed had a layer of suspended particle glass that turned from transparent to opaque on demand. It was currently a pitch-back. His suspicions grew.

After the duo exited the room, the Wanderer took a look at the wall adjacent to them, and sure enough, there was a reinforced, sealed bio-containment and radiological repository. His thoughts immediately traveled to the tanks they had found previously on their chase on the red sand incident. Expecting the Mercenary to give his two-sense on the bio-wing, he was confused when the human skipped the room completely and continued walking away.

"Excuse my curiosity Dominic, but why the bio-facility?"

"That facility? Ah yes, I've been experimenting with radioactive isotopes and some older thermonuclear ordinances. Nothing especially impressive."

That did make sense. Still...there was a possibility. In order to confirm his hunch he asked him one more question. Something straightforward and direct, but in a jovial tone to not seem serious.

"So you haven't been doing any illegally experimenting have you?" he said, slapping the mercenary on the back with a smile.

"Ha ha, of course not."

With his augmented ears, he could easily hear the humans heart beat within his chest at this range. The Wanderer abruptly shivered and nearly skipped a step.

His heart went up. Straight up. I shouldn't have gone up. Not unless he was lying.

Discretely activating a command from his omni-tool through a pre-set button built into the back, it automatically sent a pre-transcribed message with location beacon to Shepard's omni-tool. She would receive his message within seconds and flag her down to investigate the locked bio-wing further while he kept Dominic Solis busy. They could discuss their findings later.

.

After leaving the security room, Shepard had quickly made her way behind the scenes in order to avoid the others present at the party. With the layouts and security camera locations downloaded to her omni-tool, she took advantage of the free time and snooped around. It was around the seventh room she had investigated when she received a message. It was from the Wanderer, pre-recorded, encrypted, with a specific location flagged on the buildings layout. She had no idea how he did what he did, but she trusted him %110. In fact, she realized she would trust him with her life. This realization was something she found surprising and unsettling. She would say the same for any member of her crew, as she had known them for years. But to him it was different. She somehow knew that if there was something not humanly possible to survive, he'd somehow would make sure they did...

Hastily bringing herself back to the task at hand, she quietly traversed the many corridors and halls, avoiding cameras and personnel, guided by her omni-tool, until she reached her destination. It turned out to be a reinforced, sealed bio-containment and radiological lab door. Just what they were looking for.

Looking around for anyone in the vicinity, she hastily attempted to override the lock using a special software Kasumi had installed. However it was not as easy as she imagined it was. Due to the nature of the rooms contents, special barriers were erected in case of breach of containment, separate locks also operated the availability of air in the chamber, as well as a disinfection spray and sealed modular cell blocks to bypass the experiment chambers. Not to mention pulling a loop on the cameras present. It was the biggest cluster-f*ck of security protocols and lines of containment procedures she had ever had the displeasure to encounter, all while praying that no-one happened to be walking on through. If she was even one-tenth the hacker Tali was, she would have had the door open in seven seconds.

It took her almost a full minute to finally open the doors into a room filled with oxygen. If she had forgotten something, she might have well just activated the alarm or opened the door into a vacuum. Which would have been funny, but now was not the time to contemplate the hilariously deadly possibilities.

Entering the now lit and accessible room, she happened onto an identical room flanked on both sides by massive tanks and modular cell blocks. Pipes fed through one of the walls and emptied into a set of tanks one one side while the opposite side sat empty and forgotten. She also noticed at first glance, that some were missing; Just like she had seen in the previous encountered labs. Quickly snapping shots of everything she could find in the room and forwarded them to Mordin's lab on-board the Normandy that sat high above the planet.

She tested the computer system present. Nothing booted. It had been purged. Damn. It seemed they were always one step behind them. But something was up without a doubt. Someone didn't go through this much trouble to get rid of evidence, unless it was something BIG. Poking around the corners of the lab she took samples and pictures whenever she could. All the empty cells were completely scrubbed clean. The only ones filled with... something... were filled to the brim with an unknown liquid substance. Nothing toxic but unknown. Upon closer inspection, tiny bits of debris were floating around in the tank, possibly tissue or a by-product of whatever had been occupying these tanks. Opening a miniature digitized swab analyzer Mordin had given her, she grabbed a nearby chair and proceeded to use it as a boost to help her reach the top of the containment cell. Finding the handle to open the top of the tank, she gripped it firmly and pulled ...

Wait.

Ever had a moment in your life when right as you make a decision, you immediately see its error and instantly regret it and/or try to change it? Well that's what she was thinking as she watched the muscles in her hand tighten around the cold metal handle and the muscles in her arm contract to lift the containment cell cover open from its bindings.

Now, sometimes in life you're able to switch your choice before it becomes final, to reverse the damage that particular decision would have caused, to revert the situation to its original unchanged state without harm. Unfortunately life is often not like that and times where you wished to rewind cannot. That's what she was thinking as her brain sent a "HALT!" message a moment too late, and what happens when the forceful opening of a containment door breaks a small wire designed to detect when there is a breach of a sealed tank containing potentially harmful contaminants.

So silently, locked in her own body, she watched in horror as her muscles acted against her will as they yanked the handle to unseal the tank, breaking the small wire and announcing to everyone in the building that a possibly harmful containment had been released.

Fortunately her mouth and vocal cords worked perfectly as the first thing to come to her mind was translated into guttural sounds.

"F*CK"


	38. Chapter 38 : Party V

**I**** DO**** NOT ****OWN ****ANY ****OF ****THE ****BELOW ****CHARACTERS**** 'CEPT**** THE ****WANDERER**** AND ****ALL ****OTHER ****CHARACTERS****/****NAMES ****BELONG**** TO ****BIOWARE**

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"F*CK"

The loud squealing of the alarm shocked her into motion. As fast as she could, she plunged the testing device into the tank and completely disregarded the unknown chemicals that lay within. She then withdrew her hand, slammed the door shut, and sprinted to the alarm panel built into the door. Swearing one profanity after another, she worked as fast as she could to silence the alarm that had been activated.

The complex was separate from the estate, meaning the guests tonight would not be greeted with the high-pitched whine. She thought about her chances. Dominic Solis would most likely be talking with a guest, and one of his guards would notify him immediately. That could give her a few seconds to shut down the alarm and leave before he arrived, but it was impossible to know for sure. She could also be doomed from the start, as a merc could have been close by anyways. However she might still have a chance. If the Wanderer was still with Dominic Solis, he could buy her the few precious seconds that would guarantee her escape...

.

"... Actually I'm surprised why you haven't gone public yet. Even at your businesses current position you could be making millions!"

"The Money," said the Wanderer, "does not interest me."

Dominic shrugged his shoulders. "It's a shame, I think you're wasting a valuable opportunity. You could still personally retain the majority of the shares and still have a sizable amount of credits. Just think, you could buy the rights to a nice planet out on the traverse, set up shop and a base of operations. Your testing and development would speed up, with virtually no restrictions and red tape to stop you. You can still find the best and brightest, but by then you could pump out more. Not long thereafter, your name will be everywhere."

"The fame does not interest me."

"What? What does then? What compelled you to even create Cryptox?"

"Compelled me? Well for one thing, it was nether fame nor fortune. I just wanted to give the best the best, and its what I'm good at. Example. Commander Shepard. Paragon. Saves galaxy, dies, comes back from the dead, saves galaxy again. Kicks ass. I give her a tool to make her job easier. Makes the galaxy a better place... That's It. I'm indirectly helping people. Plus it feels pretty good when some of the most powerful and mysterious beings in the galaxy use and prefer something YOU'VE created with your own hands. There is much more behind my business than what meets the eye."

Glancing around the hall for signs of Shepard he noticed something else of interest.

"If you don't mind me asking Dominic, is everything alright?" The Wanderer was motioning to a member of his security being escorted out of the building.

"Oh, him?" The mercenary leader said, "My men in security found one of their own drinking on the job. Apparently after dealing with a small problem we had in the lot out front, they had returned and found he had gotten drunk, spilled vodka into one of my computers and passed out at his desk. Needless to say he is no longer working for me."

The Wanderer could barely suppress a smile. It was without a doubt Shepard.

"So, are you an officially recognized supplier to spectre stock?" he was asked.

"Well, no actually..."

"SIR!"

The Wanderer was interrupted by a mercenary who came bounding toward them. Though clearly wanting to get Dominic's attention, he was ignored, and the mercenary leader waited for a response from the man he was currently talking with.

"Sir!"

Dominic showed no interest in the guard. The Wanderer took the continued ignorance of the mercenary leader as a que to continue what he was saying.

"... uh... No. Not yet. But, it is only a matter of time. That would be my goal, yes, but until then I'm fine with maintaining a prestigious and exclusive underworld ring."

They both laughed.

"Sir..."

Dominic Solis went straight from the smiles to a look of utter annoyance. He seemed likely to snap if the merc interrupted him one more time...

"Sir?"

He snapped.

"What is it man? Can't you see I'm in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Farren? What's so absolutely dammed important that you have to tell me this instant!"

Clearly a rookie, the guard looked back down at his omni-tool and readied to say something, but then furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and shut his mouth.

"Well! .. ", Dominic said impatiently.

The guard sheepishly scratched his head. "Sorry sir, false alarm."

The mercenary leader pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Please excuse my incompetent security personnel Solomon, it seems like some of my employees need to be taught some manners. It's high time since I started cracking the whip around here."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too hard on him, he's just doing his job.", the Wanderer said with a twinkle in his eye, "Better safe than sorry."

"I suppose. Now, I would like to return right where we left off, but it is apparent that some matters need my personal attention..," he said, glaring at the guard, "If you excuse me for a moment, I need to check on something." Then with a polite nod, the mercenary leader then turned and starting walking toward the doorway.

"STALL HIM!"

Shepard voice arrived through his ear-piece with such volume and desperation that he had to force himself from wincing. She needed time. Now.

"Actually Dominic..." He said, causing the man to stall. "I was wondering if..." He hated being put on the spot. His eyes frantically searched his surroundings for something, anything, to distract him. The bar, the people, the artwork, the piano...

The piano.

"I was wondering... if I could play a piece for you and your guests this evening." he said, motioning toward the antique piano, "I understand that you are a busy man, but I am feeling a little spontaneous this evening, and I have come across a certain itch in my fingers that I would like exercising."

The mercenaries face lit up. "Oh, you play?"

He nodded.

Dominic Solis looked toward the door that was barely steps away and then toward the piano that rested on the platform. He hesitated a moment before giving into his curiosity.

"Alright Solomon," he said, turning back toward him "lets see what you can do. I hope you know what your getting yourself into, a lot of powerful people will be listening."

The Wanderer was sure he had absolutely no idea what he was getting himself into, but nodded and slowly made his way to the raised platform at the center of the hall. He at least had succeeded in buying Shepard time.

As he began walking up the steps, the lights dimmed all around, leaving him in the spotlight. He cringed as he thought about the fact that dozens of eyes were now upon him. A situation that he would have avoided at all costs long ago.

He knew he had played the instrument in the past, but... it was a memory long since buried. What had he gotten himself into? Mentally scolding himself for acting so erratically he pushes himself up the steps, and approaches the antique piano cautiously; the image of the aged instrument had begun tugging at his mind. Under the soft light, the dark wood gleamed, the shadows making all the right angles upon the floor. Like seeing a snapshot from an album, the recognition and emotion associated with its memories came rushing back in an instant. A wave of nostalgia unlike any other washed over him.

He plunges into the memory as soon as he sits at the bench. Like a prisoner within his own body, he can do nothing as his every sense becomes overloaded and then replaced real time from his mind as the memory is known unto him once again. The change comes over so suddenly he doesn't even bat an eyelash. The memory fits into his mind like a lost jigsaw piece and he sighs.

It had been many years since he had sat at the bench.

The smell of the aged earth wood and its worn and imperfect surface brought back memories. Good memories. He runs his hand along the antique fallboard and slides it open to reveal the keys beneath. Ivory? Amazing. To find ivory these days must have cost a kings ransom. Laughing inwardly at his use of words in such a modern era, he flexes his fingers in preparation as his mind brings him up to speed.

He is ready - but what to play?

He flips the sheet music in front of him to search for a suitable song but finds nothing that fits the mood. Glancing at the audience that was now assembling, he spots a familiar figure at the back of the room. Its Shepard. She stands alone despite the number of male companions around her. Her eyes, only on him. When they make eye contact, she smiles in that mischievous smile others rarely see. He smiles back.

Sheets? He didn't need them. Closing the book of music he taps the wood twice and sweeps his hands over the keys, just barely brushing them beneath his fingers. The room falls silent. He closed his eyes, thinking about her, almost as if waiting for the right moment... And with that thought, he pressed the ivory keys, and soon, an unearthly melody filled the hall.

Slowly at first, but then it increased in depth and speed as his fingers moved expertly across the keys with masterful precision and grace. Eyes widened as the soft but strong melody vibrated in the air. The music was filled with pure unadulterated emotion and passion as he poured out all of himself into the chord, his meticulous fingers dancing on the keys. The music he played needed no sheet to contain its limitless beauty. It was the music of life. It was the music of the soul. It was haunting and evocative; the melody was sad, yet beautiful. Out from the aged instrument flowed a 100,000 year lifetime of joy and suffering, peace and utter calamity.

Shepard started to forget how to breathe as the seconds passed, the torrent of emotion and passion in the piece he was playing hit her like a wave, hypnotizing everyone in the room into some sort of trace with its unearthly grace. The music he played was like the siren's song, beautiful yet deadly, engulfing everyone who listened in silent euphoria. The sounds seemed to thunder from years of pent up energy and repressed feelings. His hands flew from end to end as the song reached its climax; an epic reverberation that filled the audience with raw power and overflowing emotion. Then, he slowly winded down, and with a last stroke of the keys, he sighed in satisfaction and ceased the playing with the resonance of one single, final, long note.

The inhabitants of the room were in such a state from influence of the song that there was silence for several seconds before any reaction was shown. Then, the room erupted into standing ovation.

Shepard let out the breath she was holding and took in another deep one, trying to calm her heart. It was racing madly, uncontrollably... She brought a hand to her cheek - she was just as flushed as he was. He was absolutely amazing...

The Wanderer stayed seated for a while, hands still resting upon the keys, eyes unfocused and distant, breathing shallow breaths. His face was flushed from the exertion. The memory had ended. Snapping out of his daze he was startled to find the platform surrounded by applauding persons. He immediately stood up straight from the piano, nearly loosing his balance from the effort, and hurriedly took a bow. The clapping continued. He had no idea how much time had passed since he started playing. The afterglow of the memory had left him disorientated.

Dominic Solis bounded up the steps to meet him, slapping him on the back in a congratulatory manner and praising him on a spectacular and moving performance.

The Wanderer took everything in very slowly. He had surprised himself with the energy he had poured into the music. After first touching the keys, his fingers had taken a life of their own. That wasn't good. The memories were escaping faster than he could control; not that he was complaining with the current situation - This memory was a good one. It would have disastrous if another had.

Bringing a trembling hand to his face and wiping the sweat from his brow he turned to the mercenary leader.

"I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Dominic."

"Wasted? Are you joking?" the mercenary leader said, "That was the most fantastic piece of work that I have ever heard! How long did it take you to compose such a piece?"

"Compose? No. It's just been... many years in the making. Many, long, years." Those words echoed in his mind and his eyes unfocused again. The noise around him slowly disappeared. Time slowed to a standstill and everything around him faded away into darkness.

He saw himself standing alone again.

100,000 years. 100,000 long years. An eternity. 100,000 years of living, breathing, walking, along that glittering milky boulevard... And what had become of him? He had changed, yes. Everyone did. What had he accomplished? Did it even matter? In the grand scale of the universe, he was so enormously insignificant that it was laughable. Everything seemed so... trivial. Even after everything he did, the Reapers still held a iron grip on life in the milky way.

Every act of kindness, every act of terror that he had ever wrought, lay buried in his head. A quiet conversation with an elder under the mid-day sun. A piecing scream in the darkness. All these slowly faded away. Into what? Did it matter? Those people were gone. Dead. They should be. Yet even after all these years when their graves submit to the decay of time, their faces still haunted him. All the labors of the ages, all the devotion, all the inspiration, all the noonday brightness of life's triumph, are destined to extinction in the vast death of the galaxy; and the whole temple of life's achievement must be inevitably buried beneath the debris of a universe in ruin. Why did he go on? Why? Because he was the only person capable? Bullshit. Because he cared? Did he really? If he died today, the rest of the universe would still exist. Life would find a way. They would still be where they were. He would have put a bullet in his head long ago if he knew what he had to face over and over again.

But...

Maybe it was because of the faces that haunted him. A reminder that although they were gone, they HAD lived. They HAD touched the lives of others. They HAD existed and they HAD tried to face the trials and tribulations of forces greatly beyond their understanding. His memories were the largest FUCK YOU to the indifferent universe.

The party materialized around him, time slowly unfroze, the volume slowly increased. He was escaping.

Fine then, he thought to himself, he had to continue moving forward... but he needed something to fight for. Not a memory, he needed something closer. Something real. Something living - breathing.

In the chaos around him he could see Commander Jane Shepard standing at the back.

Her. He would fight for her. She was his anchor. Even if he didn't, she had to survive. He would make sure of that.

Slowly excusing himself, he took slow steps down toward the ground.


	39. Chapter 39 : Party VI

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

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He never reached the last step. As he staggered off the stage and desperately attempted to regain control of his nerves, droves of the party guests surrounded him - and sound. Lots and lots of unnecessary, annoying sound. In a flash his disorientation snapped into irritation.

_Please shut up_, he thought. He wished everyone would shut their mouths for a moment - by any means necessary.

_Relax, don't act foolishly._ He sighed. _Compose yourself._

Mechanically, without consciousness of what he was doing, he began to shoulder his way through the crowd. Briefly glancing at the faces of those present while dodging petty conversation, his rational mind automatically drowned out the annoying sights and sounds and gathered some insightful information about his surroundings, while the other half contemplated grabbing the nearest persons face and slamming it into the closest wall.

According to the official definition of music, it was: 'The art or science of combining vocal or instrumental sounds to produce beauty of form, harmony, and expression of emotion.' Quite. He had noted that many of the females and some of the males in the crowd had burst into tears. It was interesting to see that no matter the species or gender, music carried the same effect across all its listeners. It was truly a universal language. Of course after making this observation he would always think of implications, comparisons, and deductions, but this was neither the time nor the place for such contemplation. He needed to get away before he acted erratically; before he...

A couple forced themselves in front of him.

... "Mr. Farren isn't it? Delighted to meet you! My name is..."

_Today_... he clenched and unclenched his fist, _today would be a true test of patience.._.

...

After dealing with the umpteenth congratulatory greeting, he excused himself one final time and briskly walked away from the crowd to place as much distance between himself and the guests - but fate had other plans. It had decided that today would be a great day to toy with him, as music began to slowly and softly fill the air and the conversation dimmed down. The dance had begun.

_Sigh._

A hand suddenly found its way to his arm.

"Well, I'd say It's about time..."

Relived and expecting it to be Shepard, he spun on his heels to meet the female figure. In mid spin he realized the person he was holding was NOT the commander. Shepard had rougher hands and a more muscular figure from military training. And although, the woman he held was quite beautiful, raven black hair in a red dress, her hands were soft and delicate; The hands of someone who had not worked a day of hard physical labour in their lives.

Hazel eyes looked up at him. He was slightly taken aback.

"I'm terribly sorry, I thought you were someone else." he said, breaking out of his irritation as his mind scrambled to return itself back to normal.

"That's quite alright. " The female said, "May I have this dance?"

"Oh, uh, yes... Of course." His mouth was running off. He must have sounded like a juvenile idiot.

Unsurprisingly they started a human dance - the waltz. He remained silent, still bringing himself up to speed while simultaneously remembering how to move his feet correctly and wondering where the hell Shepard was.

Now to discover who this mystery female was. Dress was high ticket name, very expensive. He spun her around and moved his hand down her back. She was thin - not skinny but very lean with a slight muscular overlay that was reflected in her subtle curves. Her legs were long and slender but developed. She was extremely light on her toes. She was also extremely attractive - her femininity radiated around her like an aura. Her hair smelt faintly of sweet flowers. Age was in the mid to late twenties. Fair skin. The variables tumbled in his head. Ah of course, she was a...

"Dancer. You're a dancer." he said, breaking the silence. Not at a club, but as a professional honest to goodness dancer. Classically trained from a young age. She did well for herself.

"Yes, very good. How did you know? Have we met before?"

"No. I don't think so, I'm sure I would have remembered you. I'm just very good at reading people." He said winking, "My name is Solomon Farren." he said taking a slight bow without fully breaking the rhythm.

"Pleasure to meet you Solomon. It seems chivalry is not dead." The woman smiled. "It was you, wasn't it," she said, "who played that breathtaking song just a moment ago?"

"Indeed it was. You enjoyed it?"

The woman's face lit up. "Enjoyed it? It was absolutely extraordinary and emotionally overpowering. My heart was beating incredibly fast for minutes even after you had ceased playing. What do you call that piece?"

He was actually floored by her question. He had no idea. It was a compilation of 100,000 years of his life. Its ups, its downs, from someone who wandered the galaxy aimlessly, waiting.

"To be honest with you, I don't have one yet." he said honestly.

"Whatever you end up calling it, it was very beautiful. Is that your livelihood Solomon?"

He shook his head. "Oh, no. Just something I picked on Earth awhile ago. I've always had a deep appreciation for the arts, the expression of skill and imagination can breathe life into the most dull of minds and forsaken of places."

The woman seemed to contemplate his answer. "I don't believe I've ever heard someone put it that way before." her voice lowered slightly. "You're quite the intriguing individual."

Oh no, he knew where this was going.

"Oh goodness me, I've been ranting on and you don't even know my name. Leona Johnson."

Remaining courteous, he politely smiled and nodded. "Pleasure to meet you Leona."

That's around when things got complicated. Completely unnecessarily, ridiculously complicated. Many years ago he had been trained to identify any distraction on a mission and to deal with the distraction with a swift and appropriate force. Not just with civilians in the area, or wild animals but also of women. His race had been no stranger to the power women held over their male counterparts - as with nearly any race today - and a distraction such as them on a mission could prove disastrous. During his cycle eight out of the top ten assassins in the galaxy were in fact, women. Seeing that this was many years ago coupled with certainty the woman he held was not an assassin and seasoned with the fact that he could read humans as if they were made of paper - made the next part ever harder to ignore; The subtle hints she was dropping him, moving a little closer each time, slightly more contact with each step, the seductive tone of her voice – the swaying of the hips ever so slightly, the smile, the elevated heart beat...

God this was getting out of hand. He had to stop this somehow. Not that he wanted to, it was the absolute last thing he wanted to do, but it needed to be done. He was here for a mission, besides, there was another who he looked to. A certain someone who should have made an appearance earlier or he would have never gotten into this mess.

"Did you come alone?" she asked exquisitely. Both of them knew his answer would make or break the evening. It was his chance for a opening.

"Well actually, as a matter of fact..."

He was about to continue when another hand stopped him in mid stride. He instantly recognized whose body the hand was part of and gave an internal sigh of relief. There could not have been a more perfect timing.

"Buzz off," Shepard said, glaring threateningly at the other woman, "He's mine."

The woman in the red dress gave a small yelp before being gently shoved away by the woman in the black dress known only unto her as 'Allison Gunn'. Apparently her name was commonplace enough that Leona she did not resist the takeover knowing fully well what line of work Miss Gunn worked in. Instead, she bravely, _slowly_ sauntered away, gave a wink to 'Solomon', and disappeared into the crowd. Seconds later, his wrist blinked. Her name, picture and contact info appeared on the holo-display and then stored itself on his omnitool.

Shepard lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. He sheepishly grinned and shrugged.

They resumed the dance.

She moved her hair out of her eyes. "Sorry for intruding. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important."

"Oh not at all, perfect timing actually. Things were about to get a little heated." he said lightheartedly.

She had no idea how serious he was.

"Oh, I'm sure of it."

He sneered and scanned the crowd. Within seconds he found several pairs of eyes burning on Shepard.

"Hm, alright little miss Innocent, where have you been the last few moments? I spot several younger gentlemen intent on getting to know you better."

She frowned.

"I have no problems evading mercenaries, yet here I am struggling to escape from the ones without guns."

"Hell, I don't blame them. Wait."

"What is it?"

It took him a moment to register what was happening. Shepard was dancing. Like actual ballroom dancing. She held perfect form and never missed a step. The two of them swept across the floor gracefully, seemingly levitating above the floor.

He grinned. "You never told me you could dance with such elegance. I was under the impression that you couldn't dance to save your life."

"... And who told you that?"

"Nearly everyone on board a certain alliance vessel named Normandy."

"Heh, figures. Do you know how hard it is to dance like this in a club on Omega wearing a suit of armor? You are not to say a word of this to anyone you understand, I have a reputation to uphold."

"Alright, alright. I guess I owe _somebody_ fifty creds."

"What? You bet on me? Let me guess, with Joker?"

"Correct. Joker bet that you couldn't dance to save your life. I bet otherwise."

"You wouldn't have made a bet unless you were absolutely sure. How did you know?"

"I've seen you move on the battlefield. He hasn't. Also I'm pretty sure N7 training includes dance lessons for the public relations training."

"Yes, you're right. It is compulsory training. Also helps with balance and basic Asari martial arts... But enough about me, you never told me you could play an instrument quite so beautifully. Where did you learn to play, and dance for that matter?"

"Seventeenth century Earth. Strangely enough the design of the piano is somewhat unique to this cycle. As for the dancing I once attempted formal Prothean dance and almost broke my back. Took me a few thousand years to muster the courage to formally dance again."

She laughed softly.

"You know," the warrior said "if you want, I can teach you a little of the Asari art when you have the time. You know, when we're not saving the galaxy and all that."

"That would be very generous of you. Thank you."

He nodded his head in acknowledgement and twirled her around once before returning. He looked up just in time to see the host, Dominic Solis, join the rest of the crowd on the floor.

Why now... Just when everything fine again, someone has to screw it up.

Shepard was already one step ahead of him. "Looks like we got company." she said.

"Yep. Nothings ever simple is it?"

His mind was racing. He scans the rest of the floor, formulating a possible escape route. Everyone currently on the floor moved in rough circles that weaved within each other with a overlapping orbit no more than two circles at a time. If one started on the inner circle and worked outward...

He squeezed her hand to get her attention.

"You see that man in the blue that we just passed? On the count of twenty we exchange partners. Keep counting and keep switching. You should end near the entrance by the end of the piece."

She looked over her shoulder for a second but did not continue.

"Don't need to. We switch at thirty-five seconds, you move closer to the middle then back. In about two minutes we end with each other on the last circle. We both get the hell out."

He thought it over in his head. He was surprised. She was correct.

"Well done. I hadn't thought of that."

The count was up.

"See you soon." His hands left hers and joined another.

He found himself missing her contact. She never left his mid for the remainder of the dance.

...

She found the Wanderer outside, alone, standing next to the balcony, one hand on the railing, eyes focused on the horizon that seemed to stretch forever out of reach in the distance. Silent and contemplative, he did not even stir when she approached him.

"You OK?" she asked, leaning against him and wrapping her arms around his free one for warmth.

He nodded slowly.

She also turned toward the horizon. As the sun was setting, the atmosphere scattered the light through different layers of gas, resulting in a particularly beautiful sunset.

"What are you thinking of?"

There was a pause. "What makes you say that?" he answered softly, eyes never leaving the frontier.

"You always get like that when your thinking of something," she said, looking back to him, "what's up?"

He was was silent for quite a while before he answered her.

"I'm thinking that, although I've seen a sunset an untold number of times, its beauty never fails to amaze me. I'm thinking that, even after so many years of walking along that lonely glittering milky boulevard, seeing the same civilizations, names and faces appear and crumble around me, there's always that one person - that one special person that reaches out of the darkness and makes contact for a moment. The person who stands out from the rest, whose presence lingers long after they have gone. And no matter where in time or space you go, that person never leaves you. Their touch forever felt, their spirit forever living on."

A pause. A cool breeze blows through the balcony. He covered her hand with his, warmth seeping through the contact.

"You're an extraordinary woman, you know that right? I'm sure I'm not the first person to say that, but I'm going to say it again. You have a spirit that is strong, good, and utterly unbreakable. Even when the galaxy turned their back you kept on trucking. You can seemingly make friends with everyone you meet, and your compassion can un-stitch even the hardest of hearts. You are something of a beacon, lighting our way in the darkness; a mass relay, steering others in the right direction. Always helping everyone and never asking for anything in return."

He turned to face Shepard, his green eyes sparkling softly in the ambient lighting and fixed his gaze onto her deep blue ones. She felt her face on fire; she was blushing, and he couldn't believe it.

"So," he said, as if they had no worries in their small slice of time. "what do you want?"

She moved closer to him, his aura of warmth enveloping her like a blanket.

_I think you should shut up and kiss me_, she thought, both of them moving closer until their faces were nearly an inch apart.

"I think you should..."

She never finished what she had to say. The Wanderer has suddenly snapped his head upward from their embrace with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Move." he said softly but with haste. He quickly pushed her behind a pillar they stood next to and calmly walked away as if nothing had happened.

_What the hell? _

"Solomon!" a voice exclaimed. It was Dominic Solis. She dared not move.

"I trust you have enjoyed yourself this evening?"

"I have. You sure know how to throw a party. Best one I've been to in ages." he said, completely unfazed that their cover had almost been blown seconds before.

"Are you alone? I thought I saw someone with you a few short minutes ago." the mercenary asked.

"Unfortunately. Allison left a little early, something she ate didn't agree with her. Just enjoying a little fresh air." he said, "Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yes actually. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course, although mind if we talk inside? Its getting a little cool out here." he said, trying to get as much distance between Dominic and Shepard as possible.

"Of course." They walked away.

Shepard let out the breath she was holding.

...

So much for not getting distracted.

As they walked through the estate, the Wanderer noticed that it was strangely devoid of life. Nearly three-quarters of the guests had already gone, and most of the security personnel were nowhere to be seen. Weird. It wasn't even midnight yet.

The mercenary piped up. "Did you get my message Solomon?"

"Message?" The warrior looked at his omni-tool. Empty was inbox. "No, I haven't."

The mercenary slowed in his walking. "You haven't? Strange. You should have."

The Wanderer thought If he had forgotten anything. He hadn't. He turned his head to look at the faces of the remaining guests.

Now that wasn't right.

All those left were the individuals whom shouldn't be here. The individuals whom Dominic had sketchy and unfavourable dealings with in the past, whose whom he obviously he did not greet with cheer. He recognized a few guests from the background checks he had done, such as those who were against the new Eclipse and those whom had screwed Dominic out of quite a large amount of credits. And one more: the guy in the black and purple suit whom Shepard was bewildered as to why he had been invited.

They arrived at his office. His thoughts were interrupted by the mercenary.

"If you didn't get the message earlier I apologize as it should have been sent to those on the select guest list. Its a good thing I caught you when I did, it would have been unfortunate for me to have not done my last set of rounds around the estate and missed you." The mercenary seemed very apologetic.

"What do you mean?" The Wanderer was even more confused.

Dominic places a hand on his shoulder.

"Solomon, it would be in your best interest to leave the party."

"Why..."

Dominic squeezes his shoulder exceptionally hard, as if he was trying to force a point.

"Solomon, I cannot stress it enough. Leave now, while you have the time." He called his guards over. "Now if you excuse me, I must get going. There is a shuttle waiting for you outside when you are ready. I urge haste." he nodded. "I look forward to your call and our future business partnership." he turned on his heels and walked away.

The Wanderer was lost. "But what about the others?..."

"Don't worry about them." The mercenary gave a small wink as he walked away. "Who knows what might happen. After all, there are five minutes to midnight."

Five minutes to midnight. It had surfaced again.

He watched as the mercenary leader and some of his guards walked out of the estate. He opened his comm.

"Shepard, where are you?"

Her voice crackled to life on the other end.

"I was going to ask you the same thing. What happened?"

"I'll tell you after, we don't have much time. I need you to move to the front of the estate as quickly as possible." He ran a hand nervously through his hair.

"Just got there. I just saw Dominic walk out of the building."

She was fast. "What's he doing?"

"He's talking to an Asari...Somethings wrong here."

"What is it?" he asked.

"The Asari he's talking to, its the one who's been following you, you know, the one the Council assigned to shadow you."

_What._

"That's not possible. It's impossible that she followed us here."

She paused. "I don't think she knows we're here. She just arrived from a shuttle. It looks like she's picking up Dominic... And they're off. They're leaving." She waited for him to speak but he didn't. "Mind telling me what's going on?"

He was silent as his brain started putting the pieces together.

"Shepard, I have reason to believe there is a bomb in the building."

...

"The Nomandy did a scan of the place before we got here and detected nothing. I personally disabled their neutron purge in the labs and every room we've already walked in has been scanned. Nothing has come up so far. If there is a bomb, it would need to be shielded and extremely bulky. Here," she said tapping something onto her omni-tool. "I got the buildings schematics and highlighted all the rooms we've been through."

His omni-tool blinked.

"That leaves us each with roughly a handful of rooms to check. Ill check the west portion, you check the east." she said.

He nodded.

"And make it quick, most of the guards have gone, and if you're right, we don't have much time..."

Time. Always wishing it would go slower or faster, never enough, always too much.

"Go."

...

Tic, Tic, Tic...

He looks up. He scans the room for anything unusual. The scan reveals nothing out of the ordinary. There is a clock placed high on the wall in the fourth room, its ticking quite loud for such a modern device. He glances at the time, and is surprised. It didn't make any sense.

He checks his omni-tool and is relived to find a reasonable time. He looks back up and looks at the clock again. The clock has the wrong time. Could it be another one of those doomsday clocks? No, it couldn't be, the hands were moving.

He looks at the hands of the clock and waits a few more seconds.

The hour hand is on the Twelve. The minute hand on the eleven. On the clock its five minutes to midnight.

_Wait. _

He closed his eyes and listened. The ticking sound was being emitted from two directions within the room, both were synchronized. One from the clock, the other from a pile of shipping crates.

_NO. _

Anxious, he rushes over to the crates and without thinking, grabs the top of one and yanks it open. The surprisingly heavy board drops to the floor as if made entirely of heavy metal. Its weight and dull grayish colour reminded him of laminated boards of lead.

His preoccupation grew. Dominic was telling the truth when he had told him he was researching radioactive isotopes and thermonuclear ordinances, but he also tried avoiding the entire situation altogether...

The crate is empty.

His sigh of relief is short-lived however, when he continues to hear the ticking sound.

More crates.

He rips open another. Empty.

Another.

Empty.

Empty, empty, empty.

The ticking sound is still heard.

Feverish with worry he frantically tears at the crates will his bare hands. They turn raw and begin to bleed from the effort of ripping through metal and fabric. He ignores the pain knowing fully well he would not be able to return to the gathering in his condition.

Another. Empty.

The ticking sound is still there.

He pulls the remaining panel back, and drops it to the floor.

Time stops for him and he freezes as soon as he sees what inhabits the crate. Every single fibre in his body locked, frozen in time like a photograph. He allows himself one heartbeat of time to confirm with himself that he isn't dreaming, isn't hallucinating, and isn't overreacting. One heartbeat to confirm that his eyes are indeed sending the proper signals to his brain to process, one heartbeat to process the realizations that are spinning through his head at speeds unknown.

The boards WERE slabs of lead.

There WERE two ticks in that room.

There WAS five minutes to midnight.

And he's gone before the second beat can end.

...

"Shepard, Run."

The command arrived right as Shepard was in the middle of bypassing a locked door. With the absence of the guards she could hack any door in the building. Quickly opening the door, she scanned the room and once safe tapped her ear-piece. "What did you say?"

" . .NOW." His voice was sounding laboured and forced.

"Wha..."

"START FUCKING RUNNING! DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE AGAIN?" He was screaming over the channel now.

This was serious. He never swore. She jogged passed the guards stationed at the entrance and ran at full sprint once her feet left the stairs.

...

He ran with the same desperation he had all those years ago at the refuge. No time for thought, no time to stop. The only way to survive was the sea. Protected by solid rock and heavy water, they had a chance. He alone might be fast enough to reach it.

How did he not notice this? Where did the shuttles go? Off planet? Was this Dominic's plan the entire time? Why had the Asari been here?

Those present at the party had been given no warning or hope of survival. Their fates were sealed. Alerting them would cause mass panic, the best option be leaving them to their last moments in ignorance. In peace. He looked around. There were no shuttles, no transport anywhere. He looked in the sky. His last shuttle had just left moments ago. Timing was everything.

_Shepard._

Quickly spotting Shepard in the distance, he headed toward her. Quickly overtaking her even though she was at full sprint, he swept her off her feet and onto his back without warning or slowing. He saw a glimpse of her surprised face before continuing to run.

...

Sherpard was an N7 graduate, highest level of proficiency in the systems alliance, in top physical athletic condition and could run faster than any person she had ever chased or had the rare instance of running from. Faster than a Turian, faster than a Asari commando.

There was but one person to that exception.

That one person was currently zooming across the barren rocky landscape who must have broken the sound barrier in his plight.

Even asking him what the hell was going on, why he was moving so incredibly fast or why he was carrying her reciprocated no answer. She received only the same laboured breathing of someone on the verge of collapse. His expression was locked into a intense unchanging stare towards the ocean. Like a stone, he did not bat an eyelid or move his eyes. He was utterly determined to reach the cliffs toward salvation. The speed in which they travelled was astonishing, much faster than any other organic being was capable - Kicked up dust and rock trailed them. The only sound she heard was laboured breathing and the machine-gun-like sound of his bare feet quickly striking against the ground. Far, far behind them, a glittering palace of glass and steel stood, silent and still. In the distance, the last rays of the sun were retreating over the horizon. Darkness began swallowing up the land.

The smell of the sea got stronger. He squeezed her hand once and held.

Using a last burst of speed, he ran full force toward the edge of the bedrock, slammed his foot hard against the edge and leaped with all his might off the rocky outcropping.

Three hundred meters below, an ocean churned against rocky cliffs.

They dropped like a stone toward the cold black waters and the feeling of weightlessness was felt. In mid air, he wrapped himself tightly around her and straightened out their bodies. He pointed his feet down a second before they hit the water.

The impact stunned her, and she tasted salt.

Within the chaos, his omnitool timer beeped twice. He grabbed her head and forcibly pushed her deeper underwater.

Beneath the murky water and distorted vision, she watched a new sun appear and light fill their world.

Then... Oblivion.


	40. Chapter 40 : After Hours

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

For those of you looking for action, next few chapters will deliver.

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_I hear the gunshots, then the screams._

_"Jane, stay here. Stay hidden. Don't come out no matter what."_

_Peeking through the cracks in the wall I see everything. I see the aliens bust through the door. Father isn't a warrior. He is quickly subdued and then shot with what is later identified by a chemical round. He glows green for a moment. His form then looses it's shape as he starts to shrink slowly becoming a puddle on the floor. Mother screams. She is shot next. It's the same reaction. The glowing. The shrinking. The melting._

_My six__teen__ year old mind __is lost__. They make their way over to me. My heart beat growing louder in my ears. As the door opens a shot of adrenaline fills my system and fight or flight kicks in. Small enough to escape their grasp I slip by and out the door._

_It's dark. The sun has set by now. The area is still bright lit up by the burning fire from earlier explosions. The sounds of people screaming fill the air. The site of carnage has become overwhelming and I freeze in place. An alien, later identified as a Batarian, approaches from behind and places a collar on me. I are forced in to a container with those from the other farms. Beset we start to cry. And they beat us. A strange blue glow envelops me..._

.

She awoke with a gasp, eyes wide open. Literally exploding with biotic energy she bolted upright and was immediately aware of crippling pain coming from every nerve in her body. Hands forced her back down. She cursed. She was barely aware of other voices in the room.

"She's awake!"

"Her pulse just sky-rocketed!"

"Get the sedative!"

All at once there was a fury of activity as a thousand fiery hands seemed to poke and prod every muscle in her body. She is restrained. She felt a needle, then the darkness claimed her once again.

.

She opened her eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling at a long time before she knew where she was. Slowly moving her head to her right, she sees she is alone in the Normandy med bay.

What had happened? How long had she been out?

Bringing her hand slowly to her face, she sees that its tightly bandaged and in a splint. As soon as she sees it, it begins to ache. She touches her head, and finds it's wrapped in bandage. Groaning, she looks down at the rest of her body. Jesus, she's a mess.

The door to the med bay slides open and Chakwas walk in.

"Shepard! I didn't expect you to be awake for another few hours at least! How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." Shepard rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "What the hell happened? How long have I been out?"

"Easy there, one thing at a time." The older woman said, tapping something onto a medical screening device. "First, I will ask you not to move. You broke a few bones and were still checking your tissue for any immediate damage from the radiation. We doused you in a radiation absorbing foam as soon as you were brought aboard, but we can never be too sure."

"Radiation?"

"Yes. How much do you remember?"

She stared at the older woman for a long time, searching her mind for clues that unlocked her memory. She had no idea how much time had passed since... since...

The estate.

With that said, the events of the party slowly came fading back. The talking, running, the plunge into the cold water, then a flash of the most brilliant light she had ever seen...

"Oh god. Is he..?... "

"He's fine." The doctor said, giving her a nod. "Remarkably fine actually. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Water... and that's it."

A dismal look crossed the features of the ageing doctor. She took a seat beside the commander.

"Three seconds after you two hit the surface of the ocean, a tier III, sub class thermonuclear WMD detonated from somewhere inside the estate."

Shepard's eyes had grown as large as dinner plates.

"From those left on the planet, you two are the only survivors."

She was silent but slammed her bandaged hand against the bed. She winced.

"Don't beat yourself up over this, there was nothing you could have possibly done."

"Dammit. I could of..."

"No you couldn't have. It was a weapon hidden in a crate lined with lead in the basement of a house filled with other guests. There was nothing you could have done to anticipate this."

"Alright, alright." She rubbed her head. It was difficult not to dwell on a near-death experience.

"Whats the damage report doc?"

"Well, when you came in you were in pretty bad shape, I'm not going to lie to you about that. A concussion with brain swelling, two broken ribs punctured your lung, a damaged spleen, and a shattered left wrist." She added, gently tapping the cased leg with her finger. "The brain swelling went down pretty quickly once I got you stabilized. Your spleen wasn't as bad as I thought it had been, just heavily bruised. Your ribs and lung are still healing, so you will have some problems there for the next week or so. Once everything settled, your wrist became the main problem. You must have got hit a rock pretty hard, because it was a absolute mess. I did what I could and there will be nothing permanent, but you will have a splint and in pain for a little while. This is all aside from the unhealthy dose of radiation you received from the blast."

"Shit, what the hell am I going to do now? Roll up on a battlefield with a wheelchair?"

"Shepard, you two jumped off a cliff three-hundred meters above sea-level. Take it easy for a while."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes again.

"Hows the wanderer's condition? What happened to him?"

"He's doing - surprisingly well. You two managed to get swept up by the rapid change of tidal levels and got thrown against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. He must have been holding you, because he sustained some pretty serious blunt force damage to his back and one of his arms. He managed to swim you both all the way across the channel to the next nearest rock outcropping and carried you across the planet until our shuttle found you. As soon as you boarded, he carried you directly into the med bay, laid you down in front of me and collapsed from exhaustion. It was quite the sight. You were both covered in blood and in horrible shape. Don't ever scare me like that again. At least not for a little while."

"How long ago was that?"

"It was just under two days ago. You've been out cold for almost thirty hours, although you did manage to momentarily regain consciousness and nearly crush Mordin in a biotic flare up."

Shepard tried to laugh, but was stopped abruptly by a spasm of pain in her chest.

"Please don't laugh. I don't know any other way to say this but, you're extremely lucky to be alive, again. You have one heck of a guardian looking out for you."

She was silent.

"Where is he now?"

"Right now I believe he is speaking with Samara. He should be back soon. He's spent the majority of his time at your side, and as astonishing as it seems, it appears his healing ability has sped up your recovery time."

She grunted and moved to leave the table.

"You should stay put Shepard..."

She rolled her eyes.

"..but I can't stop you, and neither can a thermonuclear explosion."

She jumped off the table and slowly limped out of the med bay.

"Thanks for the patch, doc."

"Just doing my job, Commander."

The door closed behind her.

.

Everything was quiet on the ship. It was "night" again and the majority of personnel were sleeping.

She got as far as the mess hall table before pausing for a break. Her head was pounding, her lungs burning and the meds started kicking in. She lowered herself into one of the chairs and sighed. Just a few seconds rest couldn't hurt. She rubbed her eyes. The cuts on her face stung.

She opened her eyes and he was suddenly sitting in front of her. She gave a surprised yelp.

"Up already?"

She blinked a few times to register his presence. His hair was incredibly disheveled and a large amount of bandage was covering him from his bare chest down to his waist. He held two steaming mugs, one in each hand.

"Uh, yes, I guess so."

A pause. Silence. The shock was still sinking in for her.

"So, we're the only survivors huh?"

He nodded solemnly.

"Jeez. I'm still trying to digest that." Silence. "What made you run to the ocean?"

"Many years ago..." he stopped before he could finish, his eyes growing distant again. "I... I'll tell you some other day, it's not important right now. Whats important is how you're doing. How do you feel?"

"Pretty crappy actually. I got a splint on my wrist for a while. Can't really complain though, I'm alive. Which more than some others can say."

"Don't beat yourself up. Here." He handed her one of the mugs.

She brought it close to her face. The liquid was murky and smelled odd.

"What is this?"

"A special tea made of a mixture of human and asari ingredients. Completely natural. Boosts white-blood cell production and immune response so you heal faster, it has calming effects and contains a variety of vitamins, minerals and amino acids. Not going to lie, to you it tastes disgusting, but it really works."

She took a sip of the drink, it did taste horrible.

She set the cup down in front of her and cupped her hands around it for warmth.

"How do you always seem to be ready for everything at just the right time?"

He shrugged. "If time has taught me one thing, it's to be prepared. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst."

"Wise words."

Silence.

"Thank you for saving me again."

He nodded.

She shook her head in disbelief. "What is that, the second time now?"

He shook his head. "First. First time we met was just help, you were going to be fine. Last time was mutual."

"Heh, right, but thank you really. If you hadn't carried me... I would have still been on that plateau when the bomb..."

He raised his hand. "What done is done. We cant go back to the past. I'm just here to help."

"But still, stuff like that doesn't happen everyday. We were this close to losing our lives..." She brought her hand up to demonstrate the amount but stopped when she realized her entire hand was bandaged.

"Forget it." She put her hand back down. "I know this is like the fiftieth time I've had a close call, but... none quite so close, unexpected or unprepared. I mean hell, I had the alliance behind me for Sovereign and at least had some time with the collector base... Just makes you think of your own morality you know, the people you would leave behind, the things you never got to do... disappear in a flash of light."

He nodded. "You're lucky to be able to think like that." He took a drink from the mug. "You know when you asked me what surprised me most about the galaxy?"

She nodded.

"Well I'm going to add something, something that only applies to short lived, advanced races like your own. A man once asked another what surprised him most.. The other man answered 'man', 'because he sacrifices his health in order to make money. Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then he dies having never really lived.' Believe it or not a human said that, the 14th Dalai Lama. Wise man."

She stared into the mug as she contemplated.

Silence.

She rubbed the cut on her cheek and looked up again, noticing he looked as if he wanted to ask her something.

"Would you like me to help you with that?" he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "With what?"

He pointed to his cheek.

"Oh uh, sure I guess."

He stretched out his hands onto the table in front of them. "Permission to touch you Commander? Technically I'm still a civilian."

"You don't ever have to ask... just, promise to stop calling me 'Commander'. It's nice to be treated as a normal human being once in a while. Military has no room for that."

"Of course Shepard, and... I know."

He motioned for her to lean forward. She did.

He then placed his hands on the sides of her head, cupping her face gingerly in this large hands. Upon contact a warmth unlike she had ever experienced travelled up his hands and filled her head. Almost at once, her brain stopped its pounding in her skull. She sighed with relief.

"You. Are. Amazing."

A small smile lit up his features.

"You know, I was a healer once, during the Prothean cycle. I knew I had a few years to spare so I got a extensive education on just about anything that intrigued me, made up for lost time during my cycle, including professional medicine and the like. I learned how to treat almost everything, and coupled with my ability... well, I was told I was exceptional at what I did."

"Once? What happened? Why did you stop?"

"I know this is going to sound stupid but, I couldn't take it anymore. The burden of a scalpel was harder to bear than the burden of a sword. The power to preserve life versus the power to end a life, the power to play god - and let me tell you, it is infinity easier to end one. With a sword, there is a simple swipe, stab or slash, and it is over. Requires little work and it's effects are permanent. With a scalpel, it's just so complicated. You got a living, breathing organism on your table that is unbelievably complex in its workings, and you must make sure certain vitals don't drop, certain things happen, certain things don't, time becomes your enemy and the worst part is - is the hope. Hope that the person is going to live, hope that they will walk away from the table healthy and live on the rest of their natural lives, hope that they will return to their loved ones again, hope that whoever is lying in front of you - life hanging by a thin thread – will wake again... and you see their family, you see their friends, you see their comrades, all waiting in the next room with hope in their hearts... and then suddenly before you know it that thin string breaks, that pulse stops, that clock runs out, and the hope that had filled every persons heart in that room, in that building, in every single life that the patient had ever touched - suddenly shatter to a million tiny pieces in your hands. "

He shook his head and sighed. "Eventually I figured it was easier for me to take a life than to save one. So I packed by bags, said farewell, and left never to return. Later on I found out that the exact healing centre I had worked at was one of the last ones to fall at the end of the Prothean extermination. All the medical staff there had stayed to the very end, saving those lives whom fate had already doomed and comforting the patients the best they could, before the centre itself was blasted out of existence by the Reapers. All those men and women who had stayed until the very end... I can say with all my heart and all my mind, they are stronger and braver than I."

Silence.

She had sensed a tinge of regret weaved in his words. She swore that his eyes almost misted up, but it was probably a trick of the light. His eyes looked tired though, as if all the ages has put a subtle strain on his unchanging features. Now, Shepard was a proud woman, she needed no man to lean on, and she would not be the spectre commander of one of the galaxy's most advanced ships if she did... but still, some part of her felt like there was a missing piece. When the battle was all over she would need someone to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone that would be there forever... And although she wouldn't admit it to herself out-loud quite yet, he was beginning to mean more to her than she imagined.

He adjusted his hand so that his thumbs rested on either sides of her nose while his index and middle fingers rested on either sides of her ears. A fiery warmth filled her face. In the close proximity and the light, she could see for the first time that his eyes were not entirely human like. The iris' were nearly identical to a humans, yet the actual pattern of the stroma differed around the edges.

"So, what's the different between us?"

"Pardon?"

"Like, physically, what makes you different from a human? And what are the chances your race looked this identical to humans?" she asked.

"Actually the chances are not that slim. The Quarians are remarkably similar to humans once you change their eyes and the add a few more fingers...Ill answer more when you drink more of that." he said motioning to the mug. "You'll thank me later."

"Fine."

She used her free hand to lift the drink to her lips, taking a gulp. Her face betrayed the unpleasant taste. Her nose wrinkled under his hands.

"Needs more sugar. Like a lot more. Your turn."

"Alright. On the outside, we are nearly one-hundred percent identical. I have a head on my shoulders, two arms, two legs, ten fingers and ten toes. If I had to take a physical visual exam, no-one would notice a difference. On the inside, I'm quite different. I got a couple different organs in different places. Same functions mostly, but different nevertheless. Blood is different. Don't ask for a transfusion. Not going to end well."

She grinned.

"Like you Shepard, I've been pumped up with enchantments and implants. Bones strengthened with a carbide ceramic ossification catalyst. Muscle density boosted with a fibrofoid muscular protein. Implants to sync directly with my suit. It's semi-powered, meaning it will match my speed to a certain degree."

"Could everyone else move as fast as you can?"

"No. I was faster compared to most people, yes, but what you see today is the product of thousands of years of constant training. Also as I forgot to list earlier, my eyes are naturally different than yours. I can see is a slightly lower wavelength than you can."

"So that's how you saw Kasumi when shes cloaked. How does that happen?"

"A star radiates at all wavelengths, but its radiation is most intense in the wavelengths that are visible to us. It is no accident that the naked eye are those in which the star radiates the most strongly. Our eyes evolved with the ability to detect electromagnetic radiation in that range precisely, because that is the range of radiation most available to them. We are both able to 'see' radiation at whatever wavelengths our own suns emit more strongly. In this case, my home planet orbited a star that emitted a slightly lower wavelength in abundance. As for the chances of our two species evolving similarly... the odds are higher than you think. I don't know the exact numbers, but nearly every species on the citadel are bipedal correct? As advanced races we are all relatively hairless, we have complex foot and leg bone structure. Almost everyone walks upright, two arms, two legs. Brain and sensory organs placed high up. "

"Interesting. You know I had a question to ask you for a while now. How did your kind deal with overpopulation?"

"What do you mean?"

"If everyone walked around unable to age wouldn't space and resources run out pretty fast?"

"Yes. However not everyone has the same strength of... Ok let me start from the beginning. Everyone had a field, yes, but with varying degrees of strength. We all shared speedy recovery times but I was a rare exception. As you grew older, it grew in strength. It was a really a small change, but it could add years if you caught a random boost earlier on. One of the effects the field has on the body is to eliminate oxidative stress, which can cause your cells to accumulate less damage over the years, making you live longer, thus also appearing younger. This also prevented cancer, Parkinson's disease, Alzheimer's disease, atherosclerosis, heart failure, stuff like that. Truly a win-win. However we soon discovered that reactive oxidative stress can be beneficial, as they are used by the immune system as a way to attack and kill pathogens. Those were a constant threat. I was extremely luck to get a jump earlier on so I didn't get stuck in a perpetual state of old. You would age normally, until the field became strong enough that you 'stood still in time' so to speak. Accumulated damage your cells had already aged would not be reversed, just maintained. Sometimes large skilled groups of people would be able to congregate and heal just about anything in a matter of minutes or hours. The field also healed on the cellular level so if you were born with a genetic disease it was with you for life. Some common diseases that plagued us were things like fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva, or stone man syndrome, a disease of the connective tissue. A mutation of the body's repair mechanism causes fibrous tissue including muscle, tendon, and ligament to be ossified when damaged. In many cases, injuries can cause joints to become permanently frozen in place. Surgical removal of the extra bone growths has been shown to cause the body to "repair" the affected area with more bone. Our healing ability speed up the rate and literally locked people inside their bodies. Affects humans too, but its extremely rare. Because our our ability, finding an individual with biotics was so rare that it bordered on myth. During our last fight, we managed to recruit around a couple hundred biotics out of our population of billions. We also, MADE SURE, our populations never got out of hand. Depending on factors like wealth, rank, contributions and past life lived etc, we would euthanize older members of society once a certain age was met. The vast majority simply died of old age..."

He stopped as if he remembered something. He smiled.

"I can't believe it, I just remembered something from long ago!" His eyes suddenly shone, he had remembered something good.

"I was part of a small squad before I started working alone, our squad leader at the time... " he shook his head. "Really tough guy, hair streaked with grey, a steely gaze that could see through your soul... the the military had hired him from some planet far from most major hubs, no-one knew anything about him, his records were completely sealed. Heck, I was a newbie at that time, a couple hundred years old at the time and he was god to me. Anyways this guy had a really short temper and was really quiet most of the time. If you didn't know something or if you didn't know what he was talking about he'd snap at you like you were some kind of village idiot. Brilliant tactician and a genius when it came to hand to hand combat. Fast as hell. We all thought he was either raised in the wild or a thousand years old; that's how people started to act when they were alive long enough. Then one day we're waiting for a drop at a camp, and it's just him and me, and I caught him zoning out again- deep thought you know, and I asked what he was doing and he said he was thinking, and he didn't snap, so I took the opportunity to continue - to which I replied that he thought too much, and he says, 'when you get to my age kid, you find yourself lost in your thoughts more and more, sometimes without even realizing it. They become the only things that stay with you.' Then, I asked him how old he was and he replied..."

He stopped talking.

"Yes...?" Shepard asked impatiently. Taking another swig of the bitter drink.

He stared into space again, amazed at himself for remembering this slice of time.

"Five-thousand four-hundred twenty-three."

"And...?"

His eyes focused and then looked back at her.

"I freaked. Like actually. He was the oldest person I had ever known or ever met. It was completely unheard of. He was something that should have ended thousands of years ago. Everything made sense after that. The temper, the fighting proficiency, he couldn't stand repeating something because to him, he had thought it, or said it, an endless number of times. He was also free from any sort of neural implant... let me put it this way, the most important implant I have is the implant I have in my head. Able to encode chemical memories into a digital format for long periods of time – a necessity for my kind. It's how I stay sane over the years and not max out our brains. He didn't have one and he was _five-thousand...I can't imagine..._ He was a bitter old man bent from years of death and time trapped in a younger body. I didn't get it at the time but, now I do. Shepard the side effects of living that long are not in the body, but in the mind, in the oldest people I had met, they suffered from compassion fatigue and depersonalization. To him, it was the same old, _all the time_. Nothing was new, everything a copy or a pattern."

"So what happened?"

"Our group eventually disbanded. I never said a word about his age to anyone for fear that they would do something about it. Eventually I rose in rank enough to gain access to his profile, and everything he had said was true. They had found him living my himself on an empty planet for over a thousand years. The isolation was a result of his age - you always isolate yourself when you see the same things happen over and over again. It was not long thereafter I started working alone that I received word that he had died. Went out with a bang so to speak – detonated a fusion core in the middle of an enemy shipyard. He had plenty of time to get out with any vehicle in the shipyard he wanted, but he didn't. Everyone said he was a hero. I knew he did it on purpose. He was too good to mess up like that."

"He couldn't take it anymore."

He nodded. "Yes... he couldn't take it anymore."

Silence.

Shepard was now feeling warm and fuzzy, the meds, the tea and the warmth of his body sinking into her like a sea of peace. She didn't dare move a muscle. She closed her eyes.

"Damn. Sorry to interrupt, did you contact Dominic?" she said sleepily.

"Yes, we agreed on a design for me to start on. He gave no indication or reference to what happened planet-side. I acted like nothing happened. Everything's just peachy."

"Good... good... goooood..."

Silence.

The wanderer moved his hands a little. No response. Eyes were still behind their lids. Muscles were relaxed. Breathing was very slow. He listened for her heartbeat. Lowered.

She was asleep.

He looked at the mug, it was empty, she had drunk all of it.

Hm.

He slowly and carefully moved her back from the table and lifted her into his arms. Luckily everyone was asleep or this would have been hard to explain. He walked over to the elevator and selected her cabin. The doors closed and EDI's hologram sprung to life.

"Shepard, Dr.T'soni has sent you an urgent message that she would like looked at as soon as you have the time..."

"That may have to wait EDI." He said quietly.

"Oh... Understood." EDI's hologram disappeared.

The elevator reached the commanders quarters. He nudged the door console with his elbow and the doors slid open with a quiet hiss.

Wow, nice place.

This was his first time up here and he felt like he was invading her personal space. Nevertheless, he took a moment to glace around. Her quarters were dimly lit, but noticeably luxurious and spacious, complete with her own desk, terminal, washroom, couch, full sized bed, weapons locker... and a giant fish tank. Damn, Cerberus didn't screw around when it came to luxury furnishings. Strange, he thought to himself, with all these luxuries, she rarely spent time up here.

He slowly walked over to her bed and gently laid her down on the soft mattress, careful not to jostle her too much. She didn't stir. She was angelic when she slept, all the worry and and stresses from the outside world gone for a short moment in time. _Beautiful._

Before he retreated though, he slowly ran his hand over her soft cheek, where a cut had been especially deep.

He walked back to the door, stopping once to look at the fish in the tank. Most of them he recognized but this one, the Prejek Paddle fish, seemed to swim near his hand and acknowledge him. He recalled a vendor describing them as a "Flat blue fish known for their odd locomotion and feeding habits." Perhaps it was hungry?

He pressed the fish feeder button and food fell from the top of the aquarium. The Prejek Paddle fish quickly swam to the food source, gobbled a few morsels and did the most incredible thing: the fish phased right through the aquarium walls, swimming freely around in the air of Shepard's cabin for a dew seconds before drifting back into the aquarium. What just happened? A biotic fish?

He rubbed his eyes. Perhaps he needed to rest as well. In the quiet of the cabin, he looked back toward Shepard once more, emerald eyes gleaming in the darkness, and walked out of the cabin without so much a sound.

.

He stepped into his quarters and closed the door behind him, looking at the ever expanding collection of small trinkets on his desk he collected from his time aboard the Normandy. Fumbling in his pocket, he withdrew the desks newest addition. It was a single ivory piano key, charred near-black from the heat of the explosion. He had found it floating in the water far from the plateau- another reminder of the past. He gently placed it next to the other items and sighed.

_What a week._

He then turned off the lights and sat upright on his cot, leaning against the wall, eyes gazing out the clear window into the void of space as the stars passed on by.

He sat and he thought.


	41. Chapter 41 : Shadow Broker I

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

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Shepard opened her eyes the instant her alarm rang, striking the off button with lightning speed before the second beep of the ring had completed. She bolted upright immediately, alert and sharp, jumping out of bed and onto her feet. Surprised by her energy, she bounced around her cabin as she initiated a series of stretches and warm ups – seemingly unable to sit still and almost jittery with spirit. She jumped back and forth from the balls of her feet and assumed a fighting stance.

She felt good.

She moved from foot to foot as she she threw a few mock punches into the air before finishing with a uppercut and high kick.

She felt _real_ good.

She glanced around her quarters and was surprised yet again as she wondered how she had gotten here. She rotated her shoulder and took deep breaths as she felt for any pain from her chest or shoulder.

She felt brand new.

Her wrist gave out a small jolt, evident that not all had fully healed. Still, she had expected to wake up in a world of pain. She felt so good – so _damned_ good, that she honestly could say she could go fight a Reaper in hand to hand combat. Okay, maybe not a Reaper, but a Krogan... yeah, she could probably punch out Grunt if he strolled on in here at this very moment...

Laughing at herself, she ran a hand though her hair. Whatever he had done, it was nothing short of extraordinary. Hell, she thought to herself, if he just happened to walk through the doors to her cabin she would without a doubt completely ...

EDI's voice broke her train of less than clean thoughts.

"Good morning Shepard. I trust you had a fitful sleep."

"Uh, morning EDI, and yes, I did. In fact... " she said with a pause, "I don't believe I've slept that well in years."

She bounced over to her bathroom.

"That's good to hear Shepard. I'm surprised to see you in such good condition. Chakwas is preparing to greet you on the lower level with painkillers and change of dressings."

"No need EDI, tell Chakwas... Wait, scratch that, I wanna see the look on her face. Tell Chakwas I'll be down after I finish 'crawling out of bed'. Yeah, sounds better. Any other news EDI?"

"Yes. Dr.T'soni has sent you an urgent message that she would like looked at as soon as you have the time."

A message from Liara? She wondered would it would be about. She hoped it wasn't another round of hacking terminals in Illium, chasing the Shadow Brokers agents through small messages and hints - that stuff was bullshit. Give her five minutes in an empty room with an agent and she would get them to confess that they started the genophage. Thane would agree with her.

She opened the encrypted message. Nothing special, just a summons. Probably wanted to speak to her about the info she had sent her about the Shadow Broker. It was also good idea to get up and around before they went back to saving the galaxy full time.

"EDI?"

EDIs hologram sprung to life.

"Message Liara and tell her I'll be there as soon as I can. Tell Joker to plot a course for Illium. Tell our resident head-honcho and tall dark stranger to suit up when we get there. I'm going to take a shower."

"Of course Shepard."

Before turning the knobs to unleash a scalding hot waterfall upon her skin, she happened to glace in the mirror from habit. Double taking, she peered closer to her reflection and ran a hand over her cheek - the gash from the previous day had disappeared. She was sure it had been there...

...

Although he couldn't currently see her – his back resting against a metal container facing the back of the bay - a small smile lit up his face when he heard Shepard bound into the cargo bay with a spring in her step. Evidently she was well. Her lungs were healed, breathing was was normal and so was her heartbeat. When she rounded the corner into his view, exactly when he predicted, he also took notice that the cut on her cheek had healed, as well as nearly any external bruises or lacerations she had taken to her exposed skin. Interesting, she without a doubt possessed a extremely strong immune system of her own and, coupled with his own ability and the concoction from last night, had fixed her up in hours instead of days.

"You're feeling better." He said matter-of-factly once he was within her hearing range, as he slowly turned back to finish cleaning his weapon. It was a statement, not a question.

Her face lit up when she saw him and her eyes nearly sparkled. She seemed overjoyed to see him. As with his own species, a humans body language was among the easiest to read among the council races. Their wide variety of expressive facial muscles and physiological forwardness allowed a skilled observer to accurately and acutely gather the intentions or feelings within a moments time.

"Are you kidding? That's an understatement!"

In the space of the cargo bay, she flipped over a railing and sprinted at full speed to where he sat. Expecting Shepard to slow down instead of speeding up, he turned back around just with barely enough time to see a boot racing toward his head. He immediately rolled his head on his shoulders, just narrowly missed getting kicked headfirst into the bay wall. She sailed though the air past him and landed gracefully on her feet.

"Just checking if you were still in shape. I don't want you getting soft on me." She shot a gloved fist toward him. This time he was plenty prepared and he knocked the punch to the side with the back of his hand effortlessly.

"That, " he said amusingly, "will never happen."

"Good... " She paused. "Question: last night, how did I get to my cabin?"

"I carried you."

Another kick from Shepard was avoided by a hair, his body moving just underneath her leg – by just enough space to give the impression that you made contact, when in reality he was toying with you.

"Why?"

He caught her moving fist in mid-air, preventing any further movement.

"You fell asleep in my hands." he said sincerely.

"Oh.'' She pulled herself back from his hold and retreated from the assault. She was satisfied with the way her limbs were holding up.

"I ap..."

"Stop." he said holding up his hand. "You need not apologize. You were recovering from serious wounds and feeling drowsy from medication. It was late and combined with the effects of the tea and my 'ability', it proved to be a deadly relaxant. Seriously, you try to be too polite sometimes."

"Says Mr. Nice Guy."

"Would you rather be my enemy? I'm nice to you because I trust you and I consider you to be a good friend."

"Is that the only reason?" she said with a smirk, arms crossed.

He didn't answer. Instead, he lifted his head as he heard Garrus Vakarian walk into the cargo hold. He was hurried, probably wondering what Shepard was doing up and around after what had happened.

"It's one of many." he said with a matching smirk and wink, purposely denying Shepard the answer she wanted to hear.

Shepard opened her mouth to say something.

"And no," he said speaking before she could get the words out of her mouth, "No-one saw you last night. Except for EDI of course."

She closed her mouth. Damn he was good.

...

The trio soon found themselves on Illium, making their way toward Liara's office.

Garrus shook his head as they walked. "I still don't get how you're 'just fine' after running from a thermonuclear warhead."

Shepard was adamant. "Stop worrying about me. Besides, you're the one who took a missile to the face."

"Yeah, but I got some sweet scars as a bonus." the Turian said as he outlined the side of his face. "You don't have a scratch."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Lucky I guess." she said winking to the iron-clad warrior at her other side. If he showed any reaction she couldn't see it, his helmet had been secured before they stepped off the Normandy.

The trio walked up though the busy marketplace and up the stairs to the Asari's office. Shepard noted that Liara had yet to replace the vacant seat left by her previous 'receptionist'. Buzzing the door chime, she waited until the doors slid open. The trio entered.

Dr. T'soni's office was a good size, considering its location. It had a view over the marketplace and beyond, with a large desk situated in the centre where she presently sat. The Wanderer had little to worry, Liara T'soni was a long time friend of Shepard's, a Prothean expert and a former crew member. The Asari had helped Shepard with the unholy Prothean messages and retrieved her body after it had been sucked into the vacuum of space and burned up planet side. He could not think of many people who would do that for another. Nevertheless, the experience had changed the Asari... actually, now that he thought about it, it had changed everyone. From what he heard, Liara had turned colder, much colder since the two years that had passed.

He looked over to Garrus.

Even the present bad-ass Turian was once a rookie c-sect officer who was quoted as being a stickler with a by-the-books attitude who transformed into a vigilante who started cleaning up Omega with cracks of his sniper rifle. Even the others, he had discovered, had all changed profoundly after the Commanders death.

"Shepard! It's good to see you again." the Asari said, greeting them as they entered her office while closing a holo conversation. Even with the split second glimpse he was able to recognize the man in the holo. It was a man not many people would want to get involved with. This information was interesting bargaining chip should he ever need it.

He turned his attention to the Asari. Dr. Liara T'soni would be considered quite pretty by Asari standards, devoid of any facial markings, skin a light hue of blue and waring a traditional Asari dress. She was also considered quite young - a little over 100 years of age.

She motioned them to sit. They sat. She didn't bat an eye even when the Wanderer in all his mystery and strange design sat down with them. Quite the professional.

She nodded toward the Turian. "Garrus." The Turian nodded.

She turned to the silent warrior. "And you - you are called 'The Wanderer' if I'm not mistaken, I've heard a lot about you. You've created quite the stir with your appearance at the council meeting."

He said nothing, wanting himself to remain as mysterious as possible to the information broker, for now. He returned with a simple nod.

Shepard started. "I suppose the reason you called me today was about the data I had sent you?"

Miss T'soni tapped something onto her computer. "Yes!, The data you sent was a leaked transmission between the shadow broker operatives. Some of it hinted toward the location and confirmed that Ferron, a friend of mine who helped me retrieve your body, is still alive."

Shepard had told him that Ms. T'soni had been paired with a drell named Ferron with the task to retrieve her body planet-side to return to Cerberus so that they might bring her back to the land of the living. The only problem was, they were not the only ones looking for Shepard's remains. Although no-one had any idea why, the Collectors, or rather the Reapers, also wanted Shepard's body. Ferron had then sacrificed himself to guarantee Liara's life at a certain point. Hmm.

He thought.

Without Ferrons help, he would not be sitting where he was today, with none of the present beings alive and kicking, with the galaxy in much different hands. How interesting, how incredible, how absolutely frighting, he thought, that the actions of one man shaped the fates of so many others. The butterfly effect, so it seemed, still held sway. One single individual – a drell - with a small total lifespan of only 80 years had made that much of an impact already. _What have I wrought in my time?_, the Wanderer wondered. He would contemplate this after.

He turned his attention back to the conversation.

"... A friend of yours is a friend of mine Liara, What's the next step?" Shepard said.

"I.. I don't know," The Asari said, shuffling around on her desk, "I need to prepare, to think. I'm going home. Use my terminal if you need any local intel."

She looked visibly shaken.

"You okay?" Shepard asked, instantly picking up on the Asari doctors changing manner.

The Asari grabbed the white frame on her desk and took it with her with the intent of leaving with it unseen.

"I've spent two years plotting revenge. Now I have the change to make it a rescue."

"Let me help, I'll come by your apartment?" Shepard said as she started to rise.

_Anything to help her friends_, though the Wanderer.

The doctor stopped and sighed.

"Okay, Hopefully I'll have a plan by then. Thank you Shepard." A small smile let up the doctors features. She turned to leave. The frame was nearly flat against her body, both arms holding it away from their eyes.

Without a doubt the Asari's intention was to hide the contents of the frame. Shepard would not dare pry into her friends personal business but he was much too curious.

"Dr. T'soni," He said suddenly as she passed him - his voice heard for the first time that meeting, his voice starting the Asari. The frame she held was jostled and the reflection of the frame's glass hit the Wanderer's eyes at just the right angle. He got what he wanted.

"I sincerely hope you do not think of doing business with the McDowel brothers." he said without moving, "Their reputation is less than stellar..." He paused his speech for both an added effect as well as to slow the Asari's movement until the right moment. "As you know."

The Asari slowed to a stop just outside the office boundaries just as the door's sensor detected that the portal was free of obstruction and automatically closed on its own. Stellar timing, just as he planned.

Most people would not open the door again to question him without having to divulge or confirm potentially sensitive information to the others in the room. Therefore Liara would now leave and not turn back even though she wanted to. This would only heighten the mystery surrounding him and giving him a physiological advantage. Could not have gone more perfect. No one could see but, he was grinning like an idiot. He loved screwing with people like that, hint at a intimate detail of their lives and watch them silently panic about how much you actually knew about them.

He though back to the frame she was holding. He had seen dog-tags. Were they Shepard's?

...

They took a shuttle to Liara's place. Expecting a fancy place with a nice view of Illium, they were not prepared to see a police line and an apartment swarming with investigators.

"Shit, what now!?"

He could sense the urgency in her voice. This was unexpected. Something serious had undoubtedly happened.

"I'm going to sweep around back. Update me on the details." He said, already slinking into the shadows. He did not wait for a confirmation. Shepard's approval or not, Liara was a person of interest and this would not be taken lightly.

"Make it quick. Garrus, come with me." She said looking over her shoulder. He was already gone. Even with his hulking armor, he was just as quiet as Thane.

"Lets go."

...

As he darted from between the buildings, he recalled something he read on the extranet:

"_Illium is infamous for its abusive labor practices and legalization of nearly everything except murder. It is one of the youngest asari colonies settled during the 7th Expansion Wave. So young, in fact, that the first child born on the world is only now reaching her middle age. The world is hot and massive; ground settlement is only possible at the higher polar latitudes. In more equatorial locations the population is housed in arcology skyscrapers to escape the heat of the surface._"

So, tons of skyscrapers and a floor of fire. What a lovely place to live. Lucky for him, the area they were located on sat on a raised plateau that covered a large portion of the taller buildings and ports so the chances of him falling to a rather toasty death was minimal. Even luckier, the map of Illium Liara had left on her terminal for Shepard was making itself especially useful in avoiding obvious camera traps. Illium had near-total surveillance, which was both good and bad. Good in the sense that he was going to get the information he wanted, bad in the sense that it would take him a little more time to retrieve, time which they might not have. He quickly made his way to a building adjacent to Liara's apartment hoping to get a feel for the scene and a security feed over the outside of the building.

As the the lights blinked out on the buildings roof, he ran to other side blending in perfectly with the cold shadows that were cast. He had injected a maintenance message into the buildings servers calling for a thirty second reboot of all systems. No cameras would record him nor light give him away. Thirty seconds was more than enough for what he had to see. He also took the opportunity to boot up one of the data systems and quickly grab footage from the last hour from his omni-tool.

He had to thank Kasumi and Legion for the code once they got back.

He peered over the edge and focused on Liara's loft. There were cops everywhere, and bullet holes in the glass from her main lobby. Clean, tightly grouped holes. This was not an amateur assassin. Only way the doctor would have survived would have been if she had kinetic barriers installed. Some would call it paranoid, he would have called it common sense. He saw no paramedics or coroners so there was no body. She was alive. Somewhere.

So, attempted assassination using a high-powered rifle.

His omni-tool pulsed. He had the footage. He turned into the police frequency and listened for info about the incident. He quickly ran a scan on the plateaus schematics for a building with a certain range to set up a rifle. He found one and set it as his way-point. When the lights turned back on twelve seconds later, he was already half-way to the building.

...

He was on the twenty-first floor of the building directly opposite to Liara's from where he had mentally calculated where the shooter must have been. This building was still in construction so there was no surveillance system on the floors yet, but a lone camera on the ground had showed about two dozen people - mostly construction workers - enter the structure. He matched up the time-stamps from this footage and the one he recovered from the rooftop footage from the earlier building and slowed the playback once bullet holes suddenly appeared in the glass. Bingo. A lone Asari with a bulky package entered about forty minutes prior to the estimated time of shooting. The Asari had left the building five minutes ago. Timing was everything.

He quickly hurried over to the railing and imagined holding a sniper in his hands. He extended his arm and zoomed until it was a straight line to her apartment. It was a close match but not quite, just a little to the left...

He started shifting slowly to the left, making only small foot movements as to not disturb his 'aim'. Perfect lineup. He looked down, there was a small burn on the floor that marked the fall of a searing thermal clip. One clip. Probably tossed over the side afterwards.

He counted the shots that were fired in the footage. There were far too many shots fired much too quickly to be a cheap gun. It had to be expensive, very expensive... and from this range... high-end to spectre-grade stock. Who the hell was after the Asari doctor?

There was nothing else here to prove anything. He grabbed a loose cable that ran to ground level and slid to the ground within seconds. There was one more place to check.

He ran for the port.

...

The port was busy as expected. He opted for the underground passages that led around the maintenance areas. A couple of workers were nothing compared to the throngs of people above. He slunk behind a metal beam that was in view of a camera at the end of a long corridor. The camera was posted in from of a maintenance shaft that led to a control room. Eighty meters out and he raised his pistol, lined up the target and fired one round. The camera exploded in the distance. Satisfied, he holstered his gun.

He still had it.

The door to the control room was obviously locked and required a password. It took him three seconds to open it. Once inside inside he drew up docking manifests from the last twenty-four hours. The list was massive. He narrowed the list to personal craft and those without affiliations to larger organizations. Still quite sizable. He removed shuttle craft and those who lived on Illium. The length was now reasonable. He quickly scanned the names. Almost immediately one name jumped out of the list.

Aurora.

This was not good.

He ran.


	42. Chapter 42 : Shadow Broker II

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

**100, 000 words! Never did I think I would reach this level when I first started the fic. In the past couple of days Ive written 19 pages worth, the first part is here, the second will be released this weekend.  
**

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The apartment was a beehive of activity.

"_Seal off those trace samples and get them back to the lab."_

"_We got multiple shots fired. Yeah, techs are going over the place now."_

"_Central, we got an open end on this end. Switching to a coded relay."_

Shepard passed through the police line and it rang red.

"What the hell's going on?" she interjected loudly, demanding to know what had happened to the Asari doctor. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.

An Asari cop near the entrance approached them, waving at them to keep them behind the police line.

"This area is sealed off. Please step back, ma'am."

_No one_ told her to step back.

"Sealed off? Why?" Shepard said with a icy look in her eyes, taking a bold step forward. Spectre or no-spectre, she was going to get what she wanted.

"Someone tried to kill your friend, Commander Shepard." said an unknown voice that descended down the stairs. The voice did not belong to a cop.

Shepard narrowed her eyes as the recondition came crashing down.

It was _her. _The Asari she had seen Dominic Solis leave with on that forsaken night. The Asari Spectre following the Wanderer. What was _she_ doing here?

Shepard immediately made the decision to play it stupid. They had never met once before. Her intentions were unknown at the moment – so she would go along for now but... something told her something was very, very wrong with her presence.

The Asari spectre addressed the officer.

"Thank you officer. Your people are dismissed."

The officer was dumfounded. "You can't just do that!"

"Already done." Said the Asari, turning her back coolly and wishing no further words. Every cop in the apartment then simply left. Shepard had to appreciate the power. Being a spectre had its perks.

The Asari turned to face her.

"Tela Vasir. Special Tactics and Recon."

Well, well. They finally had a name.

"A spectre?" Shepard said, as if she didn't know.

"I heard you were re-instated. Congratulations. You've done some amazing work." A pause. "So I assume you had business with your friend this evening, Commander?"

She nodded. "Liara was following a lead on the Shadow Broker."

"The Shadow Broker?" The Asari moved pass her. "Dangerous enemy to have."

It seemed so.

"What are the facts so far?"

The Asari Spectre motioned to the holes in the glass. "About twenty-five minutes ago, someone took a shot at T'Soni. Note the bullet holes. She stuck around for almost four minutes before leaving the building. Whatever she was doing was important."

Liara had probably left her a message somewhere.

"If Liara isn't here, where is she?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be sifting through her crap." said the Asari Spectre. "There's no blood, no body. It looks like T'soni got away. The sniper didn't plan on her kinetic barrier. Clever girl. Paranoid, but clever."

If the Asari in front of her had even the slightest notion of what herself and the Normandy's crew had been subject to over the last few years, kinetic barriers would have been the bare minimum, Shepard thought.

"Did the police find anything when they arrived?"

"Just the mess and the bullet holes. I gave them a gold star for finding the bullet holes."

Quite the personality. She was incredibly arrogant.

She looked around. Shepard's first thought was to look for a message left behind. Although she didn't trust the Asari completely, she was sure her browsing would not go undisturbed.

"Liara was expecting me. She would have left a message here - her office wasn't safe."

"I'm not surprised. Illium is just Omega with expensive shoes." Tela Vasir crossed her arms. "I haven't found anything useful for tracking her down yet. Where would she have hidden her backups?"

She would be damned if the Asari had access to Liara's files before she did.

"Let me take a look around."

...

Liara's apartment was sparsely furnished with none of the comforts of home in any amount of abundance. It was however, tastefully decorated with a few pieces of art and Shepard was taking the rare opportunity to take a glimpse into the Asari's life whom time had changed greatly over the last two years.

She found a degree handing on a wall, a doctorate from the University of Serrice, back on Thessia.

Huh, so Chakwas' favourite drink was an Asari liquor. You learn something new everyday.

Not to far along the wall was a large glass case. To her surprise the case showcased part of her old armor - the one she was wearing when she had gotten spaced. She had wondered where the rest of her suit had ended up when she had recovered only her helmet from the crash site. Between this case and Legions makeshift repair job on its-self with the other half of her armor, she had brought the complete set together. The thought that Liara had recovered a freeze dried mass of flesh from the crash site had not sat well with her.

On the far side on the room, right by the entrance, hung a massive painting.

The Asari spectre put her two-sense in.

"That's not the Asari home-world. I'm not sure what that planet is."

Shepard knew exactly what she was looking at.

"It's Ilos."

The Asari did not respond.

...

Upstairs by Liara's bed she found a holo of the Normandy SR-1. It seems like the Asari doctor still held onto much from their time on the Normandy. It was a shame, Shepard thought to herself. The Liara she once knew was somewhere underneath the now almost frozen exterior. Just once there was a chance to see if she could take a hammer and chisel to the rock, this had to happen. She picked up the frame.

It blinked once and changed image before her eyes.

"The picture changed when you touched it. It must be keyed to your I.D." said the Asari Spectre, seemingly behind Shepard at all times. "What is it?"

Shepard also knew this place well.

"It's a Prothean dig site. Liara did leave a message. There's a few Prothean artifacts below us. I bet there's something there."

As she moved to each artifact, the Asari once again gave her opinion.

"Those things must be worth a fortune."

"She was certainly into ugly."

Shepard was tempted to slap the Spectre in the face. If the Wanderer had been here he would have either slammed her face into a wall or lectured her on the significance of the artifact, depending on which mood he was in.

Ignoring the remarks of the Asari she walked over the last artifact. Upon contact with the glass case, a small tray opened from the stand. It was a backup disk.

"Vasir, I've got something here. Lets play it on her terminal."

Shepard picked up the circular disk and walked over to her terminal. As soon as she booted the disk, a video started playing on screen.

"Looks like a recorded a call."

A Salarian appeared on the screen.

"_What have you got for me Sekat?"_

The voice was Liara's.

"_It was tricky but you paid for the best. I can narrow it down to a cluster, maybe even a system."_

"_How soon can you have it?"_

"_Shouldn't take long. Come to my office. Baria Frontiers, in the Dracon Trade Center. Gotta say T'soni – you're making me a little nervous. How big is the trouble that could come out of this?"_

"_Relax, Sekat. I'll see you in a few hours."_

The message closed.

Shepard turned to the Asari Sepctre.

"This must be important. The Shadow Brokers people already tried to kill her once."

"I know where the Dracon Center is. My car's outside."

Shepard wasted no time.

" Lets go."

...

Before leaving though, she tried the comm to see if she could contact the Wanderer. He had disappeared since she had first stepped foot into the apartment. He did not respond. Typical.

She got into Tela Vasir's shuttle.

"It that all of you?" The Asari asked, as she watched both Shepard and Garrus enter the small craft.

"Yep."

The Asari paused for a moment before leaving, taking the time to look over the rooftops and railings then closed the car's door and sped off. If Shepard had to guess, the Asari was probably contemplating where the Wanderer was.

Just as they left ground a voice was heard over her comm. "Shepard."

Shepard cursed inwardly. Timing was everything. In the quiet of the cab, this conversation was now incredibly risky. To keep her element of surprise, she had to pick and choose her words carefully.

"Yes?"

The voice spoke calmly.

"_The shooter came from the building directly across the plateau. Blue building, twenty-first floor. Shots fired about thirty-five minutes ago. Assailant is Asari in specie. Used a high-to-spectre end stock grade weapon. Not an amateur. Also one more thing I should mention: The Asari is here. The one following me."_

He had done well considered he had not stepped a foot into the apartment. Shepard tried the best she could to mask their conversation.

"Oh, I know," She said. "I was hoping if you could _meet me_ later... You know that small tech company we talked about earlier, what was it? _Started with a D_, Draco, Draca, whatever it was, I was looking to make a few _trades_, diversify the portfolio I had thrown together from our last meeting. Yes... And you wouldn't **believe** who I ran into" Shepard said, making hand gestures and layering her voice with false excitement. "Do you remember that _woman in blue _from the party that one night, the one who ran off with our host? Yes! I couldn't believe it either! Anyways, we'll be in touch... Talk to you later... Bye."

Shepard closed the comm. She silently prayed it was convincing enough to the Asari and had enough information for the Wanderer to find them.

She looked over at Garrus. He wore an expression of pure confusion and then after several moments shook his head.

...

They arrived at the front of the trade center and got out of the small craft.

"The Baria Frontier's offices are located on the third floor." The Asari said as they walked up the steps. Ï don't hear any police chatter; we must have missed the party."

Just as the last words left the mouth of the Asari an explosion suddenly and unexpectedly ripped through the floors of the building, violently throwing back Shepard and Tela back to the ground. Broken glass and rubble fell upon them like a rain shower.

"Liara's in there!" Shepard yelled, the fire returning to her eyes. Not only was her friend possibly dead, corpses of the countless others that had been working the building now littered the ground. In an instant the trade center had transformed into a graveyard.

"They just look out three floors to make sure she's dead! I'll grab the skycar and seal off the building from the top!" The Asari took off.

Shepard and Garrus ran into rubble without exchanging words. There was no need for them. They knew exactly what had to be done.

...

The interior was rubble mixed with corpses. She found bodies riddled with bullet holes; suggesting that this was more than a set up with a few bombs. There were no alarms and no police, so someone on the inside must had planned it.

In the entrance to the Baria Frontiers office, Shepard discovered that Liara had signed in just a few minutes. They burst through the doors into a floor full of Mercs.

The Shadow Brokers men. It was go-time.

Although her proficiency in combat was no-where near the Wanderer's in any standard scale of speed, efficiency or strength, she was an N7 graduate - and that was enough to have any human bow with respect. In the first stage of the "N" special forces Interplanetary Combatives Training program, level '1', candidates trained for more than 20 hours per day, leading small combat teams through hostile terrain with little sleep or food. If they did well, they were allowed to return. Most did not. The training was so extreme that even qualifying for N1 elevates an officer to a position of respect. If you continued, subsequent courses - N2 through N6 - were held off-planet and included instruction in zero-G combat, military free-fall, jetpack flight, combat diving, combat instruction, linguistics, and frontline trauma care for human and alien biology. After that was N6, actual combat experience in combat zones throughout the galaxy. If the trainee survived these scenarios in a "admirable and effective fashion," he or she finally received the coveted N7 designation. Shepard was a N7 graduate and she held that fact with pride. She had a tattoo of the insignia on her left shoulder and had all of her armors painted with it. Any enemy who was unfortunate enough to face her was driven into the ground. There was a reason why she had survived time and time again, yes, some of it was luck, but the majority of it was pure combat skill that had been drummed into her from a young age - And with one of the galaxy's most bad-ass Turian sharpshooters at her side, there was nothing except for a full-sized Reaper to bring her down.

She activated inferno rounds on all her weapons. Things were going to get hot.

She ran from cover, unleashing barrages of fire unto the first mercs, their armor melting from the heat, some rounds igniting within the chamber, spewing fire from the muzzle like a dragon from legend. Ducking in and out from the rubble and rooms faster the mercenaries anticipated, her movements were automatic and quick. Three burps from her assault rifle brought the first one down, followed by a wide open blast from her shotgun at near point blank range. It tore the merc to pieces. Garrus threw a flash grenade and it stunned a group of the Shadow Brokers men that were ready to ambush them inside an office room. Shepard rolled, jumped and delivered a gut-wrenching biotic punch that sent one flying through an open window. The second was finished from emptying a clip directly into the mercs abdomen. The air sizzled and popped. As she turned to the last one in slow motion, she watched its head explode off its shoulders. The body slumped to the ground. Nice one Garrus.

Last door.

The two burst into the last room and were greeted by a familiar looking Salarian corpse splattered against the wall and a mercs body slumped on the floor. An Asari spectre towered over the body, gun still smoking.

"Dammit. If I'd been a few seconds faster, I could've stopped him." the Asari said, holstering her weapon.

Shepard narrowed her eyes. She smelled bullshit.

She inspected the wounds on the Sekat the Salarian. The bullet holes were still oozing blood. The blood on the wall behind him still bubbled and streaked downward. He had died literally seconds ago.

"Dammit, a dead end." Shepard said, disappointed. Something was not right. Shepard took another long stare at the Asari spectre who's back was now turned.

"Speaking of which, did you find your friends body?"

She had spoken as If she was expecting an answer.

"You mean this body?" said Liara, stepping from the shadows out of complete nowhere, sub-machine gun in hand, looking very much alive and well.

"Liara?! What the hell? Wait, this is Vasir, she's a Spectre."

Liara did not avert her gaze. "This is the woman who tried to kill me." She advanced, the look in her eyes matching the gaze when she had threatened to flail a business partner alive. The barrel of her gun was steady and aim was true.

Tela Vasir was obviously taken off guard and nervously took a few steps backward. "You've had a rough day, so I'll let that slide. Why don't you put that gun down?"

"I saw you! I doubled back after I left. I watched you break into my apartment!"

Everything clicked together. Shepard's instincts were correct.

"You didn't know where Liara went, because she hid the message. You needed me to find it for you!"

Shepard pistol had already been raised and sights trained on her head. Garrus did the same.

Vasir had a snide grim etched across her face.

"Thanks for the help."

"Once she had my location, she signalled the Shadow Broker's forces. They bombarded the building to take me out. She found Sekat, took his data, and killed him. I'm guessing she's still got the disk on her."

As cocky as ever, even with superior firepower against her, the Asari Spectre crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"Good guess. Not that you'll ever see what's on it..."

The glass behind the Spectre began fracturing from the pressure of the Asari's powerful mass effect fields.

"...you pureblood bitch." She said, unleashing a torrent of broken glass upon the group.

Liara put up a barrier of biotics just in time to block the deadly shards before it could reach them. As the shower of death ceased, Shepard charged head-first. The force of the slam sent them both plummeting to ground level. Shepard broke the fall impacting her gut and took a good three seconds to recover from the air than had rushed out of her lungs. Vasir ran away with Liara hot on her heels, biotics on full power, violently pushing mercs out of the way.

Shitty buzz. Shepard had always envied the Asari people for their ability to innately use biotics. Not only were they usually much more powerful, but it didn't put nearly as much strain on the user as a human would. The physical effort required to biologically generate dark energy was metabolically massive so Shepard only allowed herself to use the ability a handful of times a mission. Nevertheless her biotics were naturally very strong for a human's, and with the new biotic implant from Cerberus, the damage she could inflict was equally massive.

The duo galloped behind the two Asari toward the entrance, shooting dead any merc who dared cross them.

...

Shepard arrived on the scene right as she saw Tela Vasir jump into her skycar and speed out of the landing area.

"Damn it!" Liara exclaimed, echoing the words Shepard had ringing through her mind.

The Asari opened one of the skycars and got in. The car was a two-seater. Garrus would have to ride on his own. She motioned to the another car and he quickly obliged. Shepard lept into the skycar with Liara and slammed the door down.

"Yeah, I'm fine by the way. Thanks for asking."

They lifted into the air and sped off in pursuit of the Asari Spectre.

Garrus took a generous five-seconds to survey the choice of vehicles that were available to him. He knew his way around these cars, his experience on Omega had forced him to know the ins and outs of these machines to get around the station quickly and reliably.

Well, well, well what do we have here? A Xera 320z model? One of the CEO's in the building must own this. The engine and power-delivery system was also top of the line, newly modelled after the Geth tech. Oversized boosters, heavy electronic assisted driving. Worth more than his vigilantes salary could afford...

A voice crackled over the mic.

"At the trade center. Position?"

Garrus stepped back and looked around.

"You missed the party. I'm out front. Where are you?"

"Roof." The comm closed.

A shadow fell from the tenth floor, breaking its fall with every outcropping from the lower levels and landed almost silently in the rubble. The shadow was suddenly beside him.

"Where's Shepard?" it said.

"I'll tell you on route. Get in." Said Garrus, holding open the door to the vehicle.

The Wanderer got in the passenger seat and Garrus got in the drivers seat. He closed the doors and sped out. As expected, the car subtly hummed as its powerful engines gained power. They sped off quickly.

"So," The Turian said, turning to the ancient warrior. "What took you so long? I half expected you to be there before we did."

"I was on foot remember? I'm convinced I'm the first person who has ever attempted getting around on Illium on foot. The chasms are too deep and the towers too tall. Ran into a thermal vent on the way here, never again man."

Garrus gave the Turian equivalent of a smirk.

"Mind giving me an update?"

"You're going to love this. Liara's alive and well by the way, in case your wondering. At her apartment there was an Asari Spectre by the name of Tela Vasir. I'm pretty sure Shepard recognized her but kept quiet. Liara had left a message for Shepard: she found it in one of the Prothean artifacts in her apartment. It was a recording of a video call. Liara had contacted a Salarian broker by the name Sekat who was able to trace the Shadow Brokers location to a System..."

"To a System?, You're serious? No one has even come close before."

"Let me finish. On the way, Shepard sends a bizzare call... it was meant for you right?

"Yes. The Asari was still with you I presume?"

"Yep. As soon as we step foot out of the car, first three floors of the trade center explode. Shepard and I got up to the third floor. Shadow Brokers men everywhere. Not a problem." he said cooly, "We get to Sekat just seconds too late. Liara comes out of nowhere, tells us it was the Asari that was trying to kill her. You can use your imagination for what happened after."

This was extremely troubling.

"That's about it. We got an Asari Spectre, by the name of Tela Vasir, working for the Shadow Broker. Here's a picture I snapped."

An image appeared on Garrus' omnitool.

The Wanderer fell silent. It was, with absolute certainty, _her_. And _she_ was working for the Shadow Broker...

An old feeling started up in his chest against, a small flame of fire slowly being fanned by this new information. When he spoke, his voice had turned to the cold detached tone.

"Is Liara _absolutely_ sure about this?"

"Yes. Apparently Liara doubled back after she left and watched the Spectre break into her apartment."

The Wanderer sat and was silent. Something did not add up. The video he had watched... it was impossible for the Spectre to break into the apartment when she had yet to leave the building across the chasm... Unless...

He quickly watched the video again, playing it again and again as the Asari exited with the large weapon. The video had a good frame resolution but the person of interest was too far away to capture that much detail. He compared the image Garrus had taken versus the one he had taken from the image. The one with the sniper was not Tela Vasir; the Asari whom he had spotted in the upper levels of Omega's afterlife. It was someone else... Someone he had spoken to directly.

Seryna.

"_They must die._" He said with an absolutely _chilling _edge.

"Where did that come from?"

"Vasir is not working alone. There is another Asari. They work for the Shadow Broker. She was assigned to shadow me by the council. They know far too much about me. She _must _die."

"Don't you think..."

"Nothing you say will dissuade me." The Wanderer said cutting the Turian off. "With the exception of the Normandy's crew, Aria and the council, any knowledge of me is sealed with the sole exception of the Asari. If she sold information about me to the Shadow Broker... That is _not_ acceptable."

Truth be told, Garrus was a tad bit shaken up. He was well aware of what the ancient warrior was capable of - and at times like these - the friendly, helpful, generous person he knew was replaced by something far more sinister.

Garrus' thoughts broke as Shepards craft came into view, a circle highlighting her craft on the windshield.

"We've caught up to Shepard. Dead ahead."

...

Back in Shepard's craft, the two of them were in hot pursuit of the Asari Spectre, weaving in and out of the bright buildings of Illium. While Shepard followed close behind, Liara kept up a constant monologue play-by-play that was beginning to sound annoying.

"There she is!"

"Hang a right! No, wait, left!"

"I'm on her." The Commander said gruellingly. She could see very well, thank you.

"Hang a left!"

"She's around the corner!"

"We're not going into the construction site are – oh, goddess."

"I'm not going to let her escape with that data!"

"She's getting away."

Shepard sighed. "Liara relax, I got this." This was not difficult.

"Traffic! Oncoming traffic!"

Much to her relief, they weaved out of the traffic zone, back to the space unoccupied by the buildings.

"Calm down! We'll be fine!", Shepard yelled.

...

Garrus had barely touched the instrument panel since they had gone airbourne. Thanks to the assisted navigation, all they had to do was set Shepard's craft as a waypoint and the craft followed.

Easy as Tuperi pie.

The alarm sounded loudly though the craft, snapping both the Turian's and the Wanderer head toward the angry red alert symbols that danced on the HUD.

"What are those, drones?"

"Proximity charges!"

Garrus swung the craft to the left, just narrowly missing the bomb. He took back his earlier statement. The Asari Spectre was not going to make it easy.

The comm in both of their ears buzzed to life as Shepard's and Liaras voices swam through the channel.

"Vasir is dropping mines, keep your eyes peeled."

Garrus manoeuvred the craft away from the mines with swipes on the dash.

"We know Shepard, we're right behind you."

"We? Wanderer finally found us?"

He put a finger to his helmet to speak.

"I was on the roof."

"What took you so long?"

He sighed.

"Once again, I was..."

He was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a small explosion from her end.

"Shit, she's got reinforcements. Keep them off me!"

Shepard diverted her question to Liara.

"What kind of guns does this thing have?"

"It's a taxi!, It has a fare meter!"

"Fucking wonderful!"

The comm closed.

Garrus and the Wanderer silently looked at each other. In any other time, they would have laughed, but taxi's were not built to withstand gunshots and mines. They wordlessly knew what to do. Garrus extended his gun in his talons.

"I'll shoot."

"I'll drive."**  
**


	43. Chapter 43 : Shadow Broker III

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE**

**Here's the next part, a few months early lol. If you read this far, reviews would be appreciated. If you already have, gracie tanto!  
**

**_O +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+ 0_**

Garrus stuck the barrel of the rifle out of the newly created hole in side window of the craft. One car of mercs had gone down right before the entrance of the freeway, a few of Garrus' well placed shots causing the engine to shutdown and fail in mid air.

"We got a truck."

"Of mercs?"

"A flying truck!"

The Wanderer swung harshly to the left again, narrowly avoided being squashed by a rolling semi that barreled though the tunnel. The response time was bad for such a new craft. The geth inspired engine was supposedly designed after the weapons, sine wave based, the power-delivery similar to the transmission of old human internal-combustion engine transmissions. It emulated 'gears' with none of the pollution and with an efficiency of ninety-something-percent. Geth designed plasma engines were powerful, but useless when the majority of it was locked out.

"Damn these controls!"

He toyed at the controls, wanting to increase the output as the "comfort" setting had been permanently enabled. A lofty ride was all he got and maneuverability was absolutely garbage. They took corners so slowly that they were without a doubt going to loose Shepard around the next bend.

Garrus called out. More mercs. Six crafts of them.

As he swung the car a little too slowly to the left around a skyscraper, the side bumpers grinded against the glass of the building and sparks flew from the contact. As they leveled out, gunshots rang out and the roof was peppered with bullets. They swore. With the locked controls they were like fish in a barrel. Blind fish. Blind fish in a coma. The only thing stopping them from blowing up was Garrus' constant return fire, but it was limited. With no change is trajectory, they were doomed.

The level of frustration being experienced by the duo was insane. A fall from this height would kill them both. They both swore and scrambled.

"There has to be a manual override!"

"There is... but I would need to stop laying fire!"

"What are you waiting for, we're going to go down! This engine we're sitting on is worthless unless we get the controls unlocked!"

Garrus made a one way decision.

"By the spirits, I hope I'm doing the right thing."

He popped open his omnitool, plugged it into the craft and got to work. Warning signs appeared everywhere on the HUD. Alarms sounded. A mine blew up a little too close. A bullet broke through the canopy and barely missed Garrus. He worked faster. Not too far in font of them, a new mine was deployed directly in their path.

"Come on, come, on!"

They got closer.

"...There!"

A huge sign lit up the shield.

**Warning: Manual Mode Selected.**

A metal steering wheel appeared from deep within the dash, pedals extending from the floor and appearing at the Warriors feet. The Wanderer gripped the wheel with both hands and yanked it to the right, this time the craft veering with an instant response. They were clear. It had payed off.

As he weaved in and out of the building and away from the open fire, his adrenaline and stimulation from his senses had started a twitch in his brain. A buried memory.

Here? Now?

His experience with these crafts was limited, so his confidence as a driver was still not enough to warrant a celebration quite yet... Unless the memory held past experiences of driving then...

"Garrus!, Can you customize the HUD?"

"Yes, what's up?"

"Set the panels to Human style..."

The panels icons and arrangement switched to a softer lines and fonts.

"Meters to Turian..."

The virtual needles and registers changed to a jagged look, reflecting the geometric style of the Turians.

The memory tugged at him harder, feeling the proximity of the mercs, while taking in all the changes to the HUD. So close... He reached for the shift lever... And grasped air. There was none. The memory retreated back into his mind and slammed itself shut. The feeling vanished.

"Damn it! Get me a shift lever!"

"A what?"

"A SHIFT LEVER. MAKE ONE IF YOU HAVE TO." His voice boomed like a god charging into battle.

The urgency in his voice was so demanding that Garrus started without thinking. He tore a panel off the dash, found the underlying controls and got to work.

...

"Truck."

"I know."

"Truck!"

"I know!"

Shepard avoided the wreckage.

"There we go! I know what I'm doing!"

"You're enjoying this."

Yes, yes she was.

"A head-on-collision at this speed..."

"Yeah," Shepard said sarcastically, "I hear those can be bad for you."

"Truck!"

"Again?"

...

More bullet holes.

The Wanderer was doing his best to avoid them, but while Garrus was busy on a lever, they had no offence. He overrode safety protocols and lockouts to bring all the power to an accessible state. It was very, very illegal to have this much power in the sky. There were caps on the engines revs to prevent misuse of power and speed.

"Come on, come on, come on..."

"Okay I set up the controls, what should we use as a lever?"

The Wanderers hand smashed though the side dash without looking and removed a long metal rod.

"Use this."

Garrus was not going to argue. He stuck the rod upright into the re-purposed port and soldered the ends together. It was done.

"Done."

"Good. Now watch."

The Wanderer maneuvered the craft to the outer clearing of space just parallel from Shepard and the Asari. On this side of the buildings, the sun caught the glint of the hood, illuminating the inside of the cabin, making the HUD to glow brighter to compensate for the change in ambient lighting. The memory came crawling back out. It was so close he could taste it...

He reached for the shift lever and grabbed it, his gloved fist grasping the lever like it was the hilt of a sword set in stone. Boom. The memory came hurling out of the recesses of his mind and settled into its true, original home like it was condemned. The memory and it's associated experience was known unto him once again - A pulse of a sigh traveled up his body.

He grabbed the shift lever, slammed the accelerator and 'downshifted'. The craft shot forward like a rocket, slamming both Garrus and the Wanderer back into their seats as the savage G forces violently ripped at their bodies. A trail of fire trailed behind them, the plasma engine grumbling with delight as it was exercised to it's full extent. The needles on the meters swung wildly.

"By the Spirits!"

The Wanders voice erupted into a maniacal laugh, pulling all sort of manoeuvres, twists and turns as if the craft was a toy.

They circled around quickly causing their necks to strain to remain straight. Garrus buckled up. In an instant it seemed, the Wanderer's skills had improved drastically.

The first merc followed them. The Wanderer zipped around a building, making a pass straight though a narrow construction tube. The merc was not prepared and exploded in a ball of fire as his craft crashed into reinforced concrete.

_Who was the mouse now? _

Garrus pulled off three shots through the port-side hole, another downed.

"Swing left."

The craft swung left and Garrus pulled off two excellent shots into the driver of another craft. It lost control, veered, and crashed into a building.

There were still four mercs left. They sped out of the air and watched them trail. They were running out of places to dodge into.

"Garrus, can you disable the locks on the y-axis?" The Wanderer asked, looking out for an escape route.

"No, not while the craft is running. I can send the command, but it won't take effect until reboot, and you can't turn off the central computer without turning off the engine."

All crafts were stuck on the range of an Y plane of a three-dimensional model to prevent accidents between multiple layers of traffic in the sky. You could move side to side, but true movement, up and down, were automatically regulated by all standard crafts on Illium. This could be used to his advantage. The Wanderer slowed the craft, causing the mercenary behind them to race toward their rear. The Wanderer slammed the accelerator down as he red-lined the engine, trapping the rear vehicle in the waste heat and plasma exhaust of his craft, melting the front of the merc craft and boiling alive those sitting in the craft. Unorthodox but effective.

The mercs were closer now. They needed to turn back but not while they were at their backs. They posed a smaller target while in a straight line. If they turned, either one of them could be shot. Directly in front of them, loomed a hollow plateau. It was their only way out.

The Wanderer booted up a scan of the floor of the planet and looked for a straight way void of outcroppings of rock.

Garrus figured out what he was doing and realization hit him.

"You can't be serious."

The Wanderer was doing calculations in his head.

"Theoretically, if we shut the engine and fall at an appropriate speed..."

"Theoretically? Theoretically we're going to die!"

The warrior searched for an alternative. This had the highest percentile of success even if it was low. He hoped the craft was powerful enough.

"Send the command and hold onto your seat."

The Turian reluctantly sent the command and gripped his seat as if it was he was strangling the source of all evil in the galaxy.

The mercs got closer. He counted from four.

Four, three, two, one.

He slammed his fist onto the central power button and every system in the craft simultaneously blinked, faded and shutdown.

They fell.

Slowly at first, but then weightlessness was felt as they reached terminal falling velocity. Neither of them even wanted to know how fast their altitude was plummeting.

Two of the merc crafts crashed into the buildings plateau and burned up in a fireball. The last one followed behind.

"How long till restart?"

"Not yet."

"How LONG?"

"Not yet!"

Both of their hands were now gripping the engine starter and boosters white knuckled, the metal warping from their combined death-grips.

The ground zoomed up to meet them.

"Now."

They both slammed the levers forward with all their might, both of them actually breaking off the handles from their respective controls. Their bodies sunk hard into the material of the seat they sat in, the engine roaring with fury and oversized boosters unleashing full power to stop them from meeting a gooey end. The ground beneath them scorched and began to glass from the heat, as even their powerful craft struggled to resist the forces of gravity and falling momentum. They faltered for a moment, but at the last second broke the pull of the planet and rose again.

The craft that had followed them did not.

"Don't you ever... do that again." The Turian said, clutching his head. His blood had rushed far too quickly to his feet.

The Wanderer would be more than happy if he never did.

"But in spite of all that I must say that was... top-notch. Nice driving."

"Thank you."

"Alright, lets see if we can find Shepard..." Garrus tried the comm. "Shepard?, Whats your location?"

The response was instant.

"Vasir just crashed on the roof of Azure, we just landed. She just called in backup. Their dropping reinforcements. Hurry your asses up." Comm closed.

"Azure." Garrus said, typing into the nav system. It was very close. "Lets go."

...

The Wanderer and Garrus landed on the roof seconds later, missing the fight by a hair. They jumped out. Bodies littered the ground. All of them mercenaries, fortunately.

On one side lay the smoking remnants of Vasir's car. On the other side lay Shepard taxi... It was - for the most part - completely unharmed.

"How in the world did Shepard..."

The Turian shrugged. "Yeah, she has a way of doing that."

The searched.

They entered a room surrounded by glass, finding an Asari dancer and a human huddled in a corner.

They took one look at them and freaked.

"Hey, we're unarmed! We didn't see anything! I don't want to die!"

"Please let me live. Please let me live. I'll do the mantras every week. I'll give to Charity. I'll go back to the Citadel and get a good job, I swear!"

The Wanderer and the Turian looked at each other. The presence of both the menacing humanoid in black armour plus the steely Turian must had sent visions of a brutal death. He motioned to Garrus.

Garrus struck a look of complete seriousness, his Turian eyes looking like an animal's, something wild and untamable. His removed his sniper and slammed the butt of it down onto the floor, his talons glinting with the metal. If the Turian had ever looked more bad-ass, he had never seen it.

The Wanderer stepped forward. They retreated with squeals of terror.

"You," he said to the Asari dancer, "Whats your name?"

"Wh...w...what?"

"I said **what's your name?**" His voice bellowed. The Asari almost passed out from fright.

"L...Lilia."

"Make good on your promise and I will not hunt for you. There is an Asari on the Citadel in the Wards named Shiela. Find her and she will give you a job. If not..."

The Wanderer took the sword from his back and ran it into the floor. Another squeal.

"You will not like what will happen. Do you know what the hardest part about meeting us a second time is?"

"Wh...what?"

"Cleaning up the mess afterwards."

Two gulps. The silence was so loud it was deafening.

The Wanderer turned his head to the human. "And you..."

The human male was renting a penthouse, wearing expensive clothes and cowering like a spineless fool. He was wealthy. He had also urinated on himself.

"Get out of here and pray we never meet again. Is that understood?"

They both nodded.

"I said** is that understood?**"

"Yes! Yes!"

He nodded. "Good talk."

The Wanderer ripped his sword out from the floor and placed it back on his back. He motioned to Garrus. They left. Once out of earshot, they broke the silence and fist-bumped. Saving the galaxy, one terrorizing encounter at a time.

They rushed to catch up to Shepard.

...

There.

Shepard and Liara were approaching a crowd of fleeing patrons, guns drawn, pausing. At the other end of the deck was Vasir, taking hostage one of the servers. Her heavy pistol was drawn.

Garrus drew his rifle. The Wanderer did not budge.

"All you had to do was walk away. Now it gets ugly." the Asari said, holding the woman in front of her. She lifted the gun to the woman's head.

"Please I have a son." The patron pleaded.

"A son? I hope he gets to see you again. I've heard losing a parent is just horrific for children. Scars them for life."

Shepard shifted angerly from foot to foot. "That _bitch_." The fire in her eyes was back.

Within the Wanderer's chest, the flame that had had started to grow before just had gasoline poured on it.

"I will end you, Vasir." Liara said.

"Its okay, Liara. We'll handle it. _The usual way_."

"You want Mariana's little boy to grow up without a mommy, Shepard?"

Shepard gritted her teeth.

"Thermal clips on the ground, now. Power cells, too. And you, " The Asari said motioning to the Wanderer, "Knew you were going to show up eventually. You move a muscle and she dies."

The Wanderer saw the glint of a sniper on the roof. There was an Asari holding a rifle. It was aimed directly at him.

Seryna.

"Shepard. There's a sniper. Whatever you do, move quickly when you do it." he whispered.

She nodded slightly without turning her head, acknowledging him.

"Smart move, taking a hostage. A spectre does whatever it takes to get the job done.", Shepard yelled.

"Yes we do." said the Asari, pointing the gun back at Shepard.

"But you're forgetting something, Vasir... I'm a Spectre, too, bitch."

Shepard fired a single shot from an arms length away - a bulls-eye shot - knocking the gun out of the Asari's hand and buring the round into her shoulder. She dropped the hostage. Mariana hit the ground hard.

"Damn it!"

"Ahh, my arm.!", the hostage yelled.

Shepard glared at the woman. "You'll live."

The Wanderer tilted his head on his shoulders erratically, a sniper round just missing his face by an inch. She had taken one shot on him and she failed. She would not get another.

They scattered. Shepard and Liara began to fight Vasir, while Garrus and the Wanderer set to work on removing the sniper.

Garrus dove into cover just as another volley of rounds hit the spot he just occupied. The Wanderer's weapon of choice was a heavy pistol, firing the weapon like a machine gun, his finger working at the trigger like a jackhammer. A round streaked low, nearly hitting him. He rolled and ran.

Garrus was steady as he lined up a shot. Too slow. He ducked right passes over his head. Cover was minimal, having started a firefight on a dining deck.

"Cover, now."

The Wanderer rushed like a blur to his position, sword drawn, its large width protecting him. He passed over the cover Garrus was using and left his line of fire as soon as he had a shot lined up.

A round rang off his sword where Garrus' head would have been.

In the small window of time after the Wanderer's absence of cover, the Turian pulled off a shot worthy of his name, the round blasting off and hitting the Asari snipers arm. The Asari clutched her shoulder and fled.

Crisis averted.

They turned back to the Asari Spectre.

_..._

The Asari's biotic barrier was immense, even in her damaged state. As fast as he was, he was not fast enough to out-run a biotic charge.

Shepard delivered devastating shotgun blasts that were only beginning to wear down on the Asari's shields.

"Take care of the mercs, I'll get Vasir!"

Deal.

Garrus set up and set the flying drones down. The Wanderer unleashed his sword and lightning movement unto the ground mercenaries; slicing into them like a sharpened blade slicing into fresh meat, entrails spilling onto the ground, blood streaming like a river into the pool of water where they fought. Some of the carrier crafts that delivered the troops simply turned around mid-flight not wanting to face the demon that was quite literally tearing them to pieces. Before long there were no re-enforcements left. They turned to the Asari Spectre who was now starting to feel the effects of their constant onslaught.

The Wanderer ran off a barrier and sailed through the air, slamming into the Asari at full force, knocking her to the ground. Garrus fired off shots in ultra-quick succession directly into her abdomen, shattering her armour as her biotic barrier was now negated by the Wanderer's close proximity. He did not unleash his sword, as it would have been too easy and it wasn't his kill. Instead he jumped back as Shepard charged toward the now dazed Asari.

...

With the others joining the fray she stood still and mustered all the energy she had left. The Asari had to be ended. She had nearly killed her friends, nearly killed her and betrayed the league of Spectres that had sworn to protect for the greater good. She took a hostage, used guilt to try and unnerve her and had been working for the Shadow Broker... a person or persons who had been willing to do anything to turn her body over to the Reapers. It ended now.

She concentrated, sending all her angry stormy emotions, and remaining power into her hand. She concentrated harder still; her hand began to become enveloped in a swirling blue storm. It increases in size, in pressure. It engulfs her palm and the digits on her hand. It grows more, its aura becoming more concentrated, more defined. It stabilizes and crackles with charge. She can feel the power course through her and collect in her arm. She looks up, she sees the Asari. The now swirling vortex begins to fuse with other colours of the spectrum forming a hue that cannot be described by eyes alone. She grasps it, feels it. With one final burst of rage; lunges forward; time stops. She is frozen in mid-stride as her remaining adrenaline is dumped into her system. She can see but is slow to move. It is the calm before the storm, the power of the universe held in the hand of one, a concentration of dark-energy so high, it distorts the space around it. Time unfreezes. They connect. The space around them swirls around and explodes outward in a brilliant display of energy. A shock-wave forms from the point of contact, turning the nearby air to hurricane force winds. The one she so desperately wanted to rid the universe of, has finally seen its end. The resulting maelstrom of power causes the body to burst outward in the opposite direction with unimaginable force. The body splatters against the wall and does not move. It is done; The air is still.

Shepard stands, exhausted, weary and spent. She looks around. The others are speechless.

"Get the data."

She holds onto the barrier to keep herself for falling. The biotic attack had completely drained her. Shepard looked at the carnage around them, it was like a butcher shop floor.

Liara took the data disk.

"Let's head back with the data. I want to get away from here." Shepard said wearily. "I need something to eat."

Mission accomplished, they began to walk away.

The Wanderer looked back up at the roof and then the body of the Asari Spectre.

He walked over to Vasir's body and took the small communicator from her ear. Gears in his head started turning.

"Ill meet you guys later," he said, "I have something to do first. Garrus, rifle, now."

...

Seryna was rushing to get back to the Aurora. They had encountered much more resistance from the Asari doctor then expected, and with Commander Shepard thrown into the mix... Things did not look good. She was confident Tela would hold her own against the Commander with her help, but the blasted Turian had made using her arm useless. As she shuffled through the alleyways and overhangs, her comm suddenly came to life.

"_Need some company?_", the voice said.

She stopped, surprised, looking around to see if she could identify the male voice that was now streaming to her ear. She hurried to the port.

"_My, my, what's the rush?_"

If the voice was talking through her comm, it meant Tela was dead. The Asari commando checked in all directions, hoping to identify the source of the sound. Her heart started beating strongly in her chest. She hated an enemy she couldn't see.

"_I must say your friend put up quite the fight. Its a shame really, a Spectre as skilled as Vasir could have been quite an asset in the coming war. I suppose we can afford one less Spectre."_

She shimmied along the edge of a railing and plopped down to the ground level.

"_Wait up, lets have a chat, shall we?_"

She started running, the fear sending a cold sweat rolling down her back.

"_Long-distance relationships inevitably come to an end you know._"

That last sentence identified the speaker. It was him. He was stalking her. She was in danger.

"What do you want?"she asked, hoping to appease the man who seemed to be everywhere at once. She watched the shadows for movement but found none. She wasn't far from the port now.

"_What do I want?__Not much really.__I would like to make a deal. In exchange for buying back all the information you have given the Shadow Broker about me and retiring to a Asari monastery on the far __side of the galaxy, I will spare your life."_

"And if I should refuse?" She was getting closer to her goal.

"_Things will not end well._"

"I think your bluffing. You have no idea who I am or where I'm going. I bet you don't even know where I am right now."

"_I am not a man to trifle with, my dear. Especially not with matters such as these. What is your decision?"_

Seryna was now within sight of her ship now just meters away. What was she worrying about? She would make it after-all. She laughed with new-found confidence.

"My decision?"she said, "My decision is that I'll take my chances. You can go to hell, you barbarous freak of nature!"

Silence.

"_I was hoping you would say that._"

As the last words faded from the microphone in her comm and entered her ear canal, a sniper round buried itself in her skull, the kinetic energy carried by the bullet causing her cranium to explode off of her shoulders. It rained blue blood.

On a building not too far from the port, on the tenth floor, stood the Wanderer. He ejected the hot heat sink and tossed it over the side. He made one more call.

"Hello Illium police? I'd like to report an anonymous tip, there is a dead body sighted just seventy meters away from the main port, right next to the craft named: Aurora. Victim is Asari, or at least I think it is. Pretty badly mangled." He closed the call.

One round paid in full.


	44. Chapter 44 : Shadow Broker IV

**_I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE_**

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"_Alright hotshot. Let's see what you can do."_

"_Hotshot? You're kidding right? You seem to forget you're the one that can't keep your mouth shut."_

"_I would watch what I say 'hotshot'," replied Jorge, joking with good humour, "You seem to forget you're using my fuel for this joyride of yours."_

"_Joyride?!" He exclaimed, "You're the one who..."_

"_No one wants to hear your excuses, -." Jorge said, putting his fingers in his ears, laughing. "Just kidding. There, you see that passage there? Pull in there. And for god sakes don't hit the corner, this thing has enough bumps and scratches as it is." _

_Careful not to scrape against the walls, the soldier manoeuvres the small transport craft solidly between the narrow passage._

"_Okay, not bad. Now, you remember everything I taught about watching the engine revs? We don't want to blow up in the middle of the sky here."_

"_Well, yeah, but it's been a while since I've driven one of these things. Can these engines actually blow up? I thought there were security mechanisms in place to..."_

"_Yeah there are, but I took them off about a year ago."_

"_What?! Why?!"_

"_Stop asking so many questions, you can squeeze out more power."_

"_But?!..."_

"_Shut your mouth and drive."_

_Longtime friends, he had known Jorge long before he joined the military. He knew arguing with him would be fruitless._

_He slowly but steadily accelerated out of the passage._

"_Woah, woah, what are you doing?"_

_He was confused. He was under the impression he was doing everything correctly._

"_What do you mean? Am I doing something incorrectly?"_

"_Yes! Look at what you're doing right now!"_

"_I'm... I'm accelerating out of the tunnel." _

"_Yes, I see that, but does it come in men's?"_

"_What?"_

"_How do I put this... You're accelerating like a little bitch."_

"_I certainly am not! The walls are too close to travel at a higher speed. Anything faster and it would risk..." _

"_Step on it before I grow old!" Jorge yelled, slamming his hand down on the soldier's knee, depressing the acceleration pedal fully._

"_What the fuck?!"_

_The old engine whirled to life in a fit of power brought on by a dump of fuel into its catalyst chambers. It jerked forward erratically. The dials and needles on the heads-up-display swung wildly, the revs threatening to danger-zone. The soldier reacted by shifting up before it could cause damage. The craft and its inhabitant zoomed out of the tunnel into the clear sky. _

"_Dammit, that was close! What was that for?"_

_Jorge shrugged."You were taking too long."_

_The soldier shook his head. "Tell me before you doing something like that again."_

"_Why? Where's the fun in that?"_

_The soldier sighed, exasperated, and added: "And we both know this is as old as you're ever going to get."_

_Technically Jorge was younger than he, but his old friend had not caught the boost as early as he did; Jorge looked older._

_Bright lights started blinking behind them._

"_What is that? A drone?" he asked._

_Jorge activated the rear camera. His face paled._

"_Its a regulator."_

"_A regulator? Oh wadaya know, you fly out of a maintenance shaft going double the limit and expect everything to be hunky-dory."_

_He started panicking."And you say I talk too much! All I've been hearing is complaints and garbage come outta your mouth!"_

_'Complaints and garbage' - A.k.a. the voice of reason._

"_We gotta pull over. We can't outrun them." the soldier said._

"_That's not an option. One more offence and it gets impounded. Besides, I upgraded the entire intake and exhaust and it cost me a fortune!"_

_The soldier pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Never a dull moment with Jorge._

"_Dammit Jorge." He accelerated._

_He quickly turned into between two high-rises. The regulator trailed him closely. He turned again. In front loomed the light of the planets star shining through another corner. If he could just made it to the straightway, they might be able to outpace the craft that was hot on their heels. _

_The lights behind them got closer. Alerts on their dashboard notified them to stop and pull over. The air was tense._

"_Go down through the entrance to the garage and see if you can deck it out." Jorge yelled._

"_No."_

"_Then fire the reverse thrusters and make your way back..."_

"_No."_

"You gotta go down through..."

"_No. I'm driving. Not you. Shut up. I got this." His training put his mind on high-gear. The soldier got quiet and calculative, his mind running simulations and probabilities. The shaft of light loomed ahead._

_Light shots peppered the outside of their craft. _

"_Oh Shit! Go! Go! Go! What are you waiting for!"_

_The soldier didn't respond._

_A shot broke through the side door and buried itself in the dash. Jorge freaked out. The soldier didn't even blink._

_Now._

_He swung the craft hard into the light._

_The bright light of the star in the distance fully illuminated the inside of the cabin. In compensation, the HUD glowed brighter and brighter until it hurt his eyes. He slammed the accelerator. Downshifted. The revs spun out of control. Time slowed. Then, with his heart beat in is ears and the timing of a master, grabbed the shifter and shifted expertly between the fragile oscillating revs, right at the fabled sweet spot near the top. The craft shot forward like a rocket, slamming both himself and Jorge back into their seats as the savage G forces violently ripped at their bodies. The regulator trailed far, far behind them, their modified engine screeching forward as it was exercised to it's full extent. The sharp smell of burning fuel, coolant and lubricant filled the cabin._

"_Mother of God!" Jorge yelled, hardly believing what he was feeling. He had yet to gain this feedback from his own craft._

_The soldier erupted into a hard laugh. He wasn't done yet. _

_He twirled between the buildings, getting so deep into the sector it was impossible to keep up. He shot right back into the maintenance tunnels, not once slowing down, racing through the narrow passage till he returned to the holding area. He fired the reverse thrusters on full, causing them to pitch forward harshly, stopping just shy of a meter from a wall of solid metal. He shut the engines and parked._

_The soldier looked back to Jorge. He was still staring wild eyed at him, still unbelieving. His hands were anchored to his seat in grip that was tearing the fabric. _

_He tossed the ignition keys to his catatonic friend._

"_You're buying tonight.", the soldier said, his green eyes piercing through the dim lighting._

"_S...Sure...Sure." _

"_Good." He said smiling as he got out of the pockmarked craft and shut the door._

_._

The Wanderer shook his head in amusement as he recalled a recently reclaimed memory.

_Dammit Jorge. _He laughed heartily to himself. It had never been a dull moment with the guy.

The Wanderer shook his head to dismiss the memory and turned back to workbench he currently sat at. In his hands he held his next creation, or rather, the next step in a long line of prototypes towards his final end result. During his time, before the Reapers arrived but just after he had gained possession of his legendary sword, he had a chance to commission a set of pistols from one of the most advanced weapons manufacturers at the time. Although once a competitor, he had traded full rights to three of his most advanced patents at the time: his rifle's 'assassination' mode, his most most advanced damage upgrade, and his WX-200 for a pair of so called 'Glass pistols'. Only five-hundred pairs were ever built. They were small, not larger than the full span of his hand, yet boasted the highest single shot penetrative damage ratio of any gun in its class with a firing mechanism that was specially adapted for soldiers with reaction times such as his. They were worth every credit. He only ever used one at a time, and the speed that he could drop his enemies at a distance while in a brisk run was staggering. His already legendary reputation had been elevated to something akin to the supernatural. If you were within a thousand yards of him, you were as good as dead.

The first of the pistols had been destroyed by an enemy, damaged irreparably under the blast of a mass-accelerated weapon. The assailant had a quarter of a second to grin before its guts were pulled out through his open mouth. The other, at the end of the war, had been spaced when his craft has been sheared in two by a reaper. When he came to, he had no idea where to start looking. Since then, he had attempted prototype after prototype of pistols from scratch in order to replicate his beloved weapons. He was getting closer, but never close enough. The original weapons, he remembered, vented with such efficiency that they never overheated. They were perfect.

He twisted a small piece of metal to its proper position and looked at the schematic in front of him. He had tweaked some of the specifications and materials from the pistol he had arrived on the Normandy with. That one had been prone to overheating, but the damage was very close. Just as long as he fired in single shots, it held out. It was not good enough.

For his newest ones, he had to tone down the damage to limit the generated heat. He had mounted an unsightly but efficient heat dissipator to the top to slowly wean off the standard heat sinks. It was slow work but progress was being made.

Taking a small mental break he turned to his right. Garrus was standing close by, busy cleaning his rifle.

The tasks they both undertook were mundane ones, but they were ones the crew found to be almost therapeutic. To get temporarily lost in the grey numbness was a welcome relief in between nerve-shattering stints against near suicidal odds. There was something comforting about doing something completely brainless on a ship light-years from absolutely everything. Hell, the Reapers had a good thing going by hiding in interstellar space. He would love to move there and float in the dark void with nothing less than the entire milky way out your window. They were complete idiots to not enjoy that.

The Wanderer observed at the Turian as he cleaned the build up from the ammo block discharge. Garrus had absolutely no trouble dissembling and re-assembling the almost completely alien assembly, a testament to his formidable skill with mechanics. He wore a look of utter concentration, something the Wanderer had dubbed the "zen-no-thought-mode". Everyone had their signature "look", and this was the Turians'. Garrus' eyes were piercing blue dots that, combined with the Turian physiology, looked like you stared into the eyes of a feral wild animal at times.

The Wanderer tapped the metal tool he held in his hand against the surface of the work surface, producing a metallic clang that drew the attention of the occupied Turian. It startled him, and he jumped a little.

"Hey Garrus, sorry to break your concentration." he said with great zest, " but did you open that silver case we received last week? The one with the the triangle stamp on it?"

The turian carefully put down his weapon and cleaning tool. "The tri armed triangle stamp you say?; that's Geth right?" The Turian answered thoughtfully, "No, I didn't know what it was."

"Oh? Grab it now then. It's a case of Geth weapons lubricant, ammo blocks, and thermal compounds. Might come in handy seeing as your in the middle of maintenance."

Garrus raised the equivalent of an eyebrow and rummaged through the cargo bay supplies. Sure enough there was a small metal box the size of a weapons case with the grey Geth insignia stamp placed squarely in the corner.

"Geth materials?" He said, hoisting the heavy box upwards, "How did you get this? The Geth don't buy or sell anything with organics."

The case slammed down onto the gleaming table with a heavy thud.

"_Usually_ don't buy or sell anything with organics.", the Wanderer said, getting up from his seat and moving the crate toward him. "Legion sent us a case when I gave his Widow upgrades. A goodwill gesture if you will."

The warrior touched a button on the front of the case and the top opened with a pneumatic hiss. Within the case was an arrangement of flawless brushed metal vials and canisters, all stamped and arranged in the mathematically most efficient arrangement that was physically possible within the confines of the box. They both took a separate vial and looked the objects over.

"Thankfully they're labelled. I doubt the Geth need such things."

"They don't. Legion must have made a special order. Lucky us, eh? The perks of working with a Geth."

The Warrior rummaged through the contents until he found what he was looking for: Geth engineered thermal compound. You couldn't go wrong when conscious computers help design materials. There was no room for organic error.

"Ah, here it is, just what I was looking for." he said, brandishing a small white vial. Satisfied, he sat back down at the bench to finish his creation.

Garrus looked through the box until he found a canister of refined high grade geth lubricant. The composition of the fluid must be insane, he thought. All of the geth rifles they owned needed no maintenance, ever.

He resumed cleaning his rifle.

"So, what you working on this time?" the turian asked. For the past week he had seen the Wanderer working feverishly on something new.

"You remember those pistols I told you I once owned, the ones I'm trying to replicate? I just finished the latest prototype. And no, its not the 'Dragon'. I still need to find the correct materials for that one."

The 'Dragon'. Something suggested from the more battle-hungry crew members.

The Wanderer applied the thermal compound to a few key areas of his weapon, all designed to lead the heat of the weapon to a special heat dissipator at the top before leading it to the array of heat sinks mounted to the side.

"Alright, I think I'm done." said the Wanderer, brandishing his newly completed weapons.

"Feast your eyes on my newest creations. I have designed a set of heavy pistols to be dual wielded. They have the power and accuracy of the heavy pistol while allowing the user to unleash a torrent of shots in quick succession using both guns. Obviously one of the pitfalls of dual-wielding is the problem of ejecting and reloading heat sinks while both are in use. To combat the issue I have implemented a system of auto-ejection that triggers when the heat sink reaches its maximum heat capacity. Quite an easy feat. To extend the life of the heat sinks and to ensure changes are made less frequently, I have implemented a heat dissapator at the top of the weapons that channel the heat to a vent at the top before the heat gets diverted to the sinks. Older technology from a few years back from when before heat sinks became mainstream tech, but this systems uses the best of both worlds. The advantage of the air-cooling is negated in the vacuum of space but quite effective in an light atmosphere. Later I'll swap it out with a thermal radiator for usage in a vacuum."

"Wow, that's impressive. You know, I still miss the older weapons where you where you could keep shooting without worrying about running out of clips..." He said, making the motion of firing a rifle, "But the amount of head-shots I pull off per minute has definitely increased. How do you fill up on sinks with both hands occupied? It must be a pain."

"Not as bad as you think, check this out."

The Wanderer picked an object that looked like a belt of sorts, a metal mechanism that hooked up to heat sinks all arranged all around.

The Wanderer secured the belt to his suit and it blinked to signify it's activation. With a metallic whirl, the heat sinks secured to the belt moved toward each of the opposite sides, right under where a persons arms would be - the outermost sink tilted forward as it waited to attach to a weapon on the fly.

"Woah, you made this too?"

"No," he said shaking his head, "I can't take all the credit. Bought it off Illium. Elanus designed it. Only directed sinks to one side though, had to modify it."

"Naturally."

Garrus reckoned that he shouldn't even be surprised anymore.

The Warrior brought the twin weapons down toward and past the sides of his suit, matching up perfectly with height of the belt. The heat sinks clipped to the guns with a mechanical clip. The guns automatically sensed the load and activated, the weapons extending the dissapator and locking in the fist sink.

"Cool right?"

The Turian was blown away.

The Wanderer raised both the pistols and fired away. The dissator bellowed heat into the air and grew red hot extending the lifespan of the sink. Once the red meter on the side of the weapon filled, the heat sink ejected on its own and the next took its place. The triggers were pulled once again. This cycle continued until the weapon ran dry. He once again brought the pistols down and reloaded with one downward swing of his arms.

"Now that... is pretty damn cool."

The Wanderer proudly agreed. He sat down again and made some last adjustments.

"Think you can get them done by the time we reach the Shadow Broker's base? I hear its just going to be you and the two ladies. Lucky man."

The Wanderer snickered. "Yeah, I think so. They're nearly done."

Sensing movement in his peripheral vision, Garrus glanced upward just as Shepard and Liara passed soundlessly past the Cargo bay viewing windows on the level above them. Jane and Liara walked slowly and talked with a manner that differed from what he had seen earlier. Something had invariably happened between their brief detour on Illium and his place here on the Normandy. A good talking to perhaps? Slowly going back to the old Liara. Shepard had started hacking away at the ice and was making progress.

While lost in his own thoughts, both the turian and the asari made eye contact. Liara waved to him. He nodded back. He looked to the Wanderer. He was still working on his weapons with his back turned to the window. Looking back toward the window he could see Liara's deep blue eyes burning into the Wanderer's dark form. The Wanderer had not removed his helmet or shed a single piece of armor since they returned to the ship.

"Playing hard to get?"

The Wanderer's head raised again. "Hard to get? What do you..."

He turned and spotted the two females above them. "Ah, no, no, no. I'm simply keeping up with appearances."

He turned his body to acknowledged the pair, nodded once - very slowly, and turned back to Garrus.

"I've established myself as a mysterious ancient force, Garrus. It would be a shame to ruin the game now."

"Game? Liara probably thinks you're something out of fantasy horror novel by now."

"Horror?"

"How should I put this? Your unique fighting style and weapon of choice frightens most sane people."

"Ah. Then my work is paying off."

"But why?"

"Because of the simple fact that I find it amusing."

"You're serious?"

The Wanderer stopped what he was doing and looked back up at the Turian impatiently. His eyes sought the side of the Turian's eyepiece, where several names had been carved into the metal. One of the names had been nearly scratched off.

"Surely you of all people know some of the reasons. I'm surprised you're asking me this, _Archangel_."

The Wanderer knew he should have never gone that far. The look on the turians face was not one he wish to see again. He turned back to his work and diverted the flow of conversation.

"'Why', you ask?" he said, answering him, adjusting a small dial on the weapon, "The less you reveal, the more people start to wonder. Something I've used to my advantage throughout my life. It has served me well."

Satisfied with the adjustment, he closed the micro-controller and returned the weapons to the padded case. Done.

"Unfortunately," he said, grumbling, "Shepard's making quick work of my facade."

Garrus's blue eyes turned to look up again. Both Shepard and Liara still stood talking above them. Their eyes kept darting to the iron-clad warrior during the conversation, hinting that they were talking about him.

"You can't hear them can you? That overhang is soundproofed."

Garrus was correct. You could fire a rocket in the cargo and no one would hear it on the other side of the glass.

"You don't need sound to know what someone is saying. Lip-reading is a useful skill to have - If you know the language."

"I'm betting you do. Fine, I'll bite. What are they saying now?"

The Wanderer strained his neck to get a better look. "Let's see... Liara just asked about my silence and I ever talk to the crew. Shepard's response is a laugh..."

Garrus could clearly see Shepard having a good chuckle.

"... and remarks about how it's hard for me to shut my mouth once it opens."

Within his helmet the Wanderer scowled. It was Garrus' turn to chuckle.

Shepard looked down upon the dark warrior and gave him a playful wink. She had known that he was listening in. Clever girl.

"So much for that." The Wanderer said, shrugging his shoulders. Garrus shook his head amusingly. Shepard - always the wild-card.

"So," he said changing the subject. "Have you taken a look at the Shadow Brokers base yet?"

"I have. Interesting place. Floating in the middle of a lightning storm. Smart really. Practically invisible unless you have a map. Ha!" he exclaimed, "I should have invested in something like that years ago!"

"Seclusion at its finest." said the turian. "Chasing the Shadow broker has been like chasing a ghost. If only we could find the Illusive man. He's probably holed up in some station somewhere in a similar situation. What's that human expression, 'in the same boat'?" he said waving his arms.

"Yep." he said nodding jovially. "You got it right. As for the Illusive man... Cerberus's files are actually not as secure as you think. Perhaps one of these day's we'll get our shot."

That certainly caught his attention. Any moment now some incredible unknown secret would coming tumbling out. "What do you mean by that? It's not exactly easy to locate and hack a Cerberus server."

If the turian could see the Wanderer's face right now, he would have witnessed the secret smile that he had grown famous for. The subtle hint that there was a entire storeroom full of secrets behind the shining green eyes.

"Hm. Well... as you know, I've kept a close eye on humanity. After the first contact war, when Cerberus first formed... I planted a dormant virus in one of their servers. Time passed, yes, but it was disguised as just another maintenance file. Once activated I had limited access before it was removed. No locations to his base or anything, unfortunately, and it was a one-time-use thing. Used the short time to get... I know this is going to sound a little strange but, I got every file available about you guys. Normandy blueprints. Dossiers of every one of you. Files on Project Lazarus. He kept tabs on Shepard and anyone she met."

The turian was surprised for the third time that conversation.

"Us? Why waste the opportunity on us? You could have gotten any other intel you wanted! The Illusive man's network rivals that of the Shadow Broker!"

The Wanderer folded his hands in front of him calmly.

"Have you ever thought about why I sometimes exhibit near paranoia when it comes to people and places, yet I waltzed right onto this ship the same day I met the crew? I would not have stepped foot on the Normandy without knowing everything about it's construction and its inhabitants. That was why I knew the implants Shepard had..."

Come to think of it, thought Garrus, he was right.

"I needed to know that EDI was unshackled, no longer reporting to the Illusive man, that the briefing room where we first spoke was a deadzone. Nothing left it walls. I needed to know that before I divulged my guarded secrets, they would not be exploited. I needed to trust you, all of you, before I ever met you. I needed to know that Commander Shepard was the legendary soldier and commander that she is, and that she had with her ships walls, a group of exceptional, unquestionably loyal crew members. I needed to know that I could show my face and speak without worrying about future repercussions. You have no idea of the amount of trust I place in the Normandy."

Garrus needed a few seconds to digest what he just heard.

"But," the turian said, "You can't decide to place trust in someone just from bits of data. That's crazy."

"You are absolutely correct," Said the Wanderer, leaning forward on his raised knee, as if telling a secret."but I'm very good at judging an individual. Your stint on Omega showed me that you fought for what you believed as right with no compromises whatsoever. Besides, I figured that if Commander Jane Shepard trusted you with her life, then so may I. Was I wrong?"

Garrus was at a loss of words.

"Now, seeing everything we have accomplished so far with our combined efforts, do you think It was wrong for me to gather specific intel that would eventually lead me to coming aboard?"

The turian shook his head.

"Don't give me all the credit, though. Everything has progressed far, far better than I had ever hoped. You're extraordinary individuals, all of you, and I feel myself privileged to fight alongside you. And depending on what you believe, we are either _extremely_ lucky or catching a benevolent deity on a _very_ good day."

Their conversation was interrupted by the ships intercom. Jokers voice cut through the bay.

"_Normandy has just entered the Sowilo System. ETA 10 minutes to Hagalaz._"


	45. Chapter 45 : Shadow Broker V

_I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE_

_Forgot to mention this last chapter: Rewrote the majority of chapter 5 and 8. Fixed Shepard's helplessness/Eclipse involvement. Recommend re-reading those two chapters for old readers if you have the time as it fits the story much better. Currently combing through chapters 4-15 to fix tone of story and minor plot holes. I perceived it as being too comical early on, so I am tweaking the dialogue to better match the more serious feel that has developed. _

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"_Normandy has just entered the Sowilo System. ETA 10 minutes to Hagalaz._"

Jokers voice echoed through the large bay and then ceased, leaving the large space momentarily void of sound. The first sounds thereafter resulted from the reopening of a weapons case as the Wanderer began securing the sink belt and twin pistols to his sides once more.

"Trial by fire?" remarked the turian, the distinctive flanging effect of his voice replacing the void. "You sure they're ready so soon?"

"No, not really," The Wanderer said, "but I suppose it is as good a time to test them as any."

While his comrade was busy getting himself geared up, Garrus picked up his own rifle from the workbench and grabbed a cloth to buff out the last of the surface metal polish. Going over its intricate surface once more, he worked at it until it gleamed and shone brand new in his talons. It also looked brand new, he thought to himself, because it _was_ brand new. Much to his horror, his rifle that had been brought to the eclipse party had been obliterated out of existence by a nuclear warhead. When the Wanderer had asked if Garrus wanted any changes a new rifle, Garrus had truthfully insisted it be exactly like the old one, except for one minor difference: he wanted it to be blue. The Wanderer had complied, and it was a thing of beauty. A deep shade of blue, it was same hue and depth as his native colony markings. The colour was fitted at key points of the design that both proudly exhibited the colour while the main mechanisms remained outlined and sharply contrasted.

The turian lifted it to catch the light - the reflection of the light dancing over the small grooves and ridges of the now spotless weapon. He looked deeper at the alien looking lines and shapes. It did not really fit in with any modern day design. From any species.

"When did you design this?" he asked, still unconvinced.

The Wanderer looked up and over from the metal table to see what Garrus was referring to. He was holding his rifle.

"A very, very long time ago." he answered softly.

"So, what, Prothean times?" the turian asked.

"No, no. Farther back. My time. That style, is my own species'." The Wanderer gazed upon the weapon longingly. "Unique, isn't it? I never appreciated its form when it was in abundance, and now the only glimpse I can get of a time long gone is through my creations."

Talk about exotic, Garrus thought. It was modelled after the culture of a dead species.

His turian eyes moved from the rifle to the Wanderer's suit with renewed curiosity. He recognized some of the contours of his suit - it matched the design of the weapon.

"I'm curious, what else have you designed?" he asked.

"Other weapons?"

"Sure."

The Wanderer paused his preparations for a moment to think. "Well, most of the weapons I perfected during my cycle were gifted to the crew of the Normandy, as you've seen. I've developed some other components for use in heavier weapons, like heat based projectiles and phoatic rounds. I've done some R&D, worked on crafts, shielding, mostly defensive, and some large ordinance back in the day."

Garrus' interest spiked. "Large ordinance? You've built bombs?"

At once, the Wanderer's tone of voice took a dive. The warrior squashed the interest before it could bud.

"Bomb. Singular." he replied, sharply. "Yes, I once built a bomb. That was the first and last time. Developing a weapon of mass destruction who's primary purpose is mass extermination does not sit well with the mind no matter who it is used on."

The Turian was alarmed by the response but got the message and backed off. _Weird_, he thought. W_orth investigating later._

"Are you just naturally good with tech?" he asked, hurriedly changing the topic of conversation.

The Wanderers voice returned to normal.

"I'm not sure if I've told you this yet but, by career, I was an engineer before I became a soldier. It was only after I went military that I started developing weapons."

Garrus shook his head. "And here I was thinking there were somethings you haven't done."

The Wanderer shrugged timidly. "I've had a lot of time on my hands."

Made sense, Garrus thought. The marksman placed his rifle down for a moment as he recapped the vial of polish. While placing the immaculate vials back into the geth case, he struggled to find the original spot for it. The absence of the other vials made the arrangement impossible. Damned machines and their efficiency. At least he still held mastery over calibration, he thought, Legion had yet to beat his results. Garrus frustratingly left the vial in the only opening he saw.

"You... you saw what Shepard did to Vasir, right?" he asked in almost a hushed tone.

The Wanderer perked up. That was a strange conversation change.

"Yes. Yes I did. We were all there. Why?"

Garrus slowly turned to face him. "Have you ever seen something like that before? I've known Shepard for a while but, I've never seen her like that."

.

The Wanderer dialogued internally.

Garrus was talking about the final biotic attack that Shepard had unleashed on Illium at the end of the fight. He used the word 'unleashed' because that was the only appropriate way to describe it. In a brilliant display of biotic power, from a human no less, Shepard had unleashed a dark energy attack so large and so powerful that it borderlined on plain ridiculous. In this cycle he had never before seen such power out of the blue. Not from an asari, not from a Krogan Battlemaster, and certainly not from a human. Even Jack, who was probably the most powerful human biotic currently in existence, had most likely never reached that level in terms of a raw power in a single, devastating attack. But by far, the scariest part of the entire incident was that Shepard was standing merely steps away from him, not much farther than his proximity to Vasir. His own field's proximity to Vasir had negated her formidable biotic barrier, yet Shepard's attack had _still_ been effective regardless. That could only mean that, for an brief instant, and with variables of the universe momentarily working in her favor - Shepard had accumulated a biotic charge so powerful it surpassed his own field in terms of strength. She was the first biotic he had ever known who could actually potentially injure or kill him using biotics. The thought both frightened and intrigued him immensely. He had not told this fact to a soul.

.

"Never." he answered finally. "It was beyond extraordinary. I've never seen anything like it."

"You could have put whatever was left of Vasir in a cup." Garrus shook his head. "Hell of a woman. Not many females like that around these days."

"You got that right." the Wanderer said, wholeheartedly agreeing with the turian's statement.

"So..." the turian asked bluntly, "What's taking you so long to make your move?"

The warrior was startled. He had not anticipated this.

"My move?"

"Yes. Your move. I may not be the most knowledgeable when it comes to human behaviour but you would have to be blind not see how you both react to each other. And I know for a fact you have a knack for picking up on peoples intentions, so no excuses."

The Wanderer raised a hand in protest but was waved away by the turian who was making it clear he was not finished.

"I am also aware that several of the Normandy's crew members have made advancements of sorts, and that the Normandy's rumour mill has recently churned out the details on what happened... or rather, what almost happened during the eclipse gathering."

_Dammit Garrus. Never a dull moment._

"And why are you doing this?" the warrior quipped.

The turian sniper said nothing as he turned his weapon over to polish the backside. The cloth was applied to the last of the polish.

"I'm concerned with her well-being." he said, after much pause.

"She does not seem un-well."

"You haven't known her for as long as I have." he quickly retorted.

That was indisputable.

"Relationships," the warrior said slowly, "are difficult for me."

Garrus glanced at him with look of incomprehension.

"Garrus," the wanderer began, "I am organic, I am mortal, just like you. We all have our drives, desires and needs whether they they be physical, emotional or... something deeper. We all need someone. Now, let me make it clear," he said with a unwavering voice, "I would _very_ much like to engage in a relationship with her and please, do not interpret my reasons as an excuse for a way out."

"It's just... there are certain... issues. Issues that need to be taken into account, factors that would not exist with anyone else. As you can envision, long term relationships are extremely difficult - for obvious reasons. Conventional expectations, especially on human lifespans, are impossible. As much as I would like to, as much as I want to... I would never get involved with someone unless they knew exactly what would happen. We are also going to be working and living within the walls of this ship for a long time, and I do _not _want to jeopardize that."

Garrus nodded in understanding.

The Wanderer was going to turn back to his work when an a mental snapshot arose in his mind. It was one of Shepard's desk in her quarters. There was a holo frame on her desk... and it had been turned face down.

"There is something else." the armoured man included. "Regardless of my efforts to keep myself distant, I have noticed that Shepard is... as equally hesitant as I am - and I know she is currently not in liaison with anyone on board."

Dots connected themselves in his mind.

"Before..." he asked with wave of his hand, "did something happen?"

Garrus expressed his answered joylessly with a nod.

"Back on the original Normandy crew," the turian explained, "there was an Alliance marine by the name of Kaidan Alenko. He was good guy, a great soldier and a powerful biotic. Now I've also noticed Shepard always keeps her relationships at arms length but, both of them seemed to hit it off from the beginning. While we were chasing Saren across the galaxy, we discovered a secret facility on Virmire where Saren was developing a cure for the krogans. Long story short, our plan went south quick. When the time came to blow the place sky high, someone needed to stay behind to defend the bomb from the Geth while the rest of us escaped. Shepard had to made a decision whether to leave Alenko or another one our crew, Alliance soldier Ashley Williams, behind."

"She chose Williams." answered the warrior solemnly.

"Yes."

Garrus shook his head. "It hit us all hard, but Shepard suffered the worst. They were practically sisters. It pained us all for awhile but we had to move on; we had a galaxy to save. One day while cleaning up the last remaining dregs of Saren's Geth in the Amada System, the collectors hit us. Commander Jane Shepard, commander of the Normandy, hero of the citadel, saviour of the galaxy, was spaced and died alone in the void."

The turian marksmen scoffed. "But that didn't stop her. The first thing she did when she came back was to look for all of us. Us - changed and lost persons littered across the galaxy - and she pulled us out of the darkness and saved us all again."

A pause.

"Before long, it's me, Tali and her on Horizon, just like old times. We discovered the collectors were abducting humans and we had caught them in the act. We get the settlements weapons grid online and its repels the collector ship. Mission completed, right? Wrong. Guess who else was stationed at Horizon that day? Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko. Although we were all really happy to see him again, Shepard was overjoyed. Of course she would be. She had loved him. After all that time and after all that had happened, she finally found him. And do you know what he did?"

Garrus' mandibles were grinding, his voice growing in anger and disgust.

"I've never understood why, but after Kaidan takes her in his arms, his relief at seeing her alive turned to anger. He demanded to know why Shepard didn't try to contact him over the two years that had passed and why she had forced him to go through the pain of thinking she was dead. Shepard obviously but calmly explained that she had been dead - in every definition of the word. He then claimed that working with Cerberus was a betrayal of everything they stood for..." Garrus shook his head in anger. "And he left! He just left!"

The furious turian had to stop what he was doing for fear he would lash out.

"The look on Shepard's face that day. That completely, crushed look, I will never forget it. After everything she had endured to pull us all back together to how it once was, I thought it was utterly despicable the way he treated her."

Garrus Vakarian exhaled as he calmed himself. There was strong emotion here. The Wanderer suspected the turians feelings toward the human female extended farther than just platonic.

"So that's that." Garrus said, resuming his task. "And that's why if there is ever a chance of seeing Shepard happy like how she once was, I would help in any way I can. I owe her that much."

The Wanderer wordlessly sat himself down on the seat and pitched himself forward, his fingers intertwined in front of him as he rested his chin on his clasped hands as he processed what he had just been told. Only one question lit up his mind.

"Then why haven't you?" he asked thoughtfully.

The turian did not react in any way befitting the nature of the question.

"I have my reasons.", was all he said.

Garrus Vakarian finished his polish, set his rifle in its proper place and tidied up his worktable.

"Perhaps..." he said, with a tone of great melancholy, "In another time. In another life."

The elevator doors slid open and out of the doors walked a human and an asari.


	46. Chapter 46 : Shadow Broker VI

_I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE_

___Some of the below memory was recycled from the Watchmen._

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_The captain was sitting by a fire, his dark, grey streaked hair shining with the light. A cigar sat between his fingers, the thin whisps of smoke rising from the burning bundle of hand select leaves of the churoca plant. He was silent as he stared into the heart of the fire, golden eyes somehow reflecting the void of space; absorbing the flames light as if they were bottomless holes of deep black. He sat so still one could think he had stopped breathing. _

___Since the brutal training had ended, we had discovered that the captain was not the the devil incarnate, and was in fact, just a man. A few years ago we would have gladly taken a suicide mission than inhabit a planet knowing he was somewhere on its surface._

_One of the soldiers in the circle was accustomed to his moments of deathly still silence and made an effort of communicate in spite of knowing it would probably to ignored. _

_On this day, I was not._

"_Hey," I said, "I never see you with any women. Or men, or anyone for that matter. What's the deal?"_

_Despite his literal close proximity to the rest of us as we camped planet side that day, there existed a gulf, a deep internal chasm that separated him from everyone. Like an island in the middle of a great lake. You could sometimes see the outline of a man on its shores but you could never get close enough to hear. _

_He did not respond. It fact - he did not stir at all, as if he had not heard a thing. I did not take it as an insult. Once he zoned off, nothing could awake him from his trance. I shrugged and made small talk with another._

"_So Jorge, you were saying something earlier about the new booster we got on the transport shuttle. What are they rated..."_

"_I was married once."_

_All conversation instantly stopped. All attention focused on the man who had uttered a soft sentence into the air as if he was not addressing... anyone in particular. His eyes did not waver from the flames. His voice continued._

"_I was forty years old. She was a medical officer, serving at the same station I was. She had beautiful black hair, darker than mine, almost as dark as night, golden eyes like suns, her touch... unlike anything I had ever felt. We bought a place on the outskirts of a city. The city was Oxadria."_

_Murmurs buzzed. Oxadira was an ancient city. A great cataclysm had hit the city thousands of years ago and it had been destroyed. It had never been rebuilt._

"_...A few years later, during a particularly intense fight at an outpost, I get 'the boost', right out of the blue."_

_He takes a long drag from the cigar and exhales slowly. _

_"You all know what I mean by that. Since I could push myself pass the usual mental limits I get drafted to group x-twenty-one. I spend most of my time there and they shape me into something... harsh."_

_Jorge opened his mouth. "Wait, ex-twenty, that has to be some sort of a... "_

_I immediately cover his mouth and sharply whisper. "Shut the hell up! He's talking!" _

_No one interjected with my harsh words. Few dared to interrupt him when he spoke. Jorge was the only one with enough balls and a big enough mouth to skirt on the edge of death. _

"_Heh, x-twenty-one." The captain shook his head, eyes still unmoving and unblinking from the heart of the fire. "Last lesson was to pump a man with enough crypsin to fill a vaka and hit the perinatal nerve on his back... The hardest part was cleaning up afterwards." _

_He pauses in his recollection and they wait until he continues._

"_She begins to tell me she is afraid and worried. She says I am like a god now. I tell her I don't think there is a god, and if there is, I am nothing like him."_

_He takes another long drag, blowing light smoke into the air. The smell is earthy._

"_I tell her I still want her... and that I always will. As I lie to her, it is nearly forty years after we married. At a drop not much later, I find myself in a bind with a much younger woman. Her figure... her smile... She is strong and deadly in both beauty and passion. We end up in each others beds."_

_Short pause. The ash falls from the ember. _

"_She... accuses me of cheating. She bursts into angry tears asking me if its because she's getting older. It was true. She was ageing more noticeably every day..."_

_Another pause. Another long drag._

"_... while I am standing still."_

_A pause. His voice takes on a strange edge._

"_You make jokes, you ridicule, you envy, but you do not know how it is. You wish for life, but you will see nothing but death. You wish for more time, but you will drown in it. There is a sense of cruel irony here."_

_He closed his eyes._

"_You," he said to me without moving. "You had once asked why I lived on that planet for so many years, alone. I preferred the stillness there; I was tired of these places. These people. I was tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives."_

_He opened his eyes and resumed his stare into the flames._

___He shut his mouth and did not open it again for the rest of the night._

.

The Wanderer blinked his eyes and shook his head as he reoriented himself.

_The black captain, _he mused_, why am I remembering you now?_

A violent shake from the shuttle snapped him back to reality.

Standing in front of him was Dr. Liara T'soni and Commander Jane Shepard. The doctors suit was the same from Illium. Extremely Light. Stark white, grey and blue. It looked both clean and elegant looking. It suited her well.

Shepard wore her usual combat suit. N7 insignia stamped on the shoulder. Medium weight armor. Heavy enough to withstand a barrage of rounds and light enough to use her biotics with regularity. Shepard had a hell of a metabolism to compensate, the combination of regular intense physical training, biotic usage and Cerberus implants made her stomach a bottomless pit.

The interior of the shuttle was periodically struck with short blazes of light, the planets electrical storm casting bright flashes of light though the open shuttle door. All three of them stood holding onto the safety bar, assessing the Shadow Brokers floating fortress as they zoomed toward it.

"Hagalaz." said Liara, breaking the silence. "The oceans boil during the day, then snap-freeze ten minutes after sundown."

Shepard shielded her eyes from the sudden bright ray of light. "The shadow broker lives in this?"

The Asari nodded.

"The ship follows the sunset. Completely undetectable in the storm, unless you know where to look."

"How do we get inside?"

"The shuttle bay is locked down. We'll need to land on the ship and hunt for a hatch."

Shepard had jokingly suggested hitting the station with a blast from the Normandy that would send the entire thing crashing down to the planets surface. Liara sternly reminded her that it was a rescue mission.

"We can't stay outside for long." The asari doctor warned, "There's a constant lightning storm where the hot and cold air collide."

Shepard looked over to the silent battle clad warrior. She noticed the Wanderer had not said a word yet. The ambiguously designed helmet was aimed toward the base.

"You left your sword behind right? Wouldn't want to see you to fry in that suit of yours."

She laughed to herself. "One order of Wanderer please, served extra crispy."

From her place in the shuttle, Liara shook her head. The asari always thought Shepard had a weird sense of humour.

The warrior piped up. "I brought alternatives.", he stated.

The Wanderer fastened a set of savage looking long knives to his arms and legs.

"How about a side order of diced broker?" he added.

They were two of a kind, Liara thought.

They all jumped off the shuttle.

.

Shepard took a quick visual assessment of the ship. It was clouded on all sides by the storm, and a set of shielding rods loomed far ahead near the back. The rods held solar panels and lightning rods to channel the massive bolts of electricity to where it was needed. It was perfectly isolated and self sufficient. Probably the Wanderer's dream home, she thought to herself.

Liara's voice rose to fight against the harsh winds."Its hard to pinpoint in this lightning but I'm picking up signals from a communications array near the back of the ship. We have to find an entrance near the back shielding."

Nothing was ever easy.

"Lets g..."

A shot whizzed right past them. They broke and scattered for cover.

"Maintenance drones!" yelled the asari doctor.

"Maintenance drones? Why are they attacking?"

"They must think we're debris from the storm!"

If they were classified as 'debris', Shepard thought to herself, she would hate to think what normal 'debris' was considered.

A couple well placed shots from her pistol, and the drones fell.

"Shepard. Permission to scout ahead.", came the request from the warrior.

The two females tuned in unison to the wanderer.

They watched him take the twin pistols from his sides and snapped the heat sinks to the weapons. The weapons extended looking all shiny and impressive. An array of lights lit up the sides of the weapons.

"Where did you get those?"

"I made them."

"Of course you did. Granted. Don't go far. Pincer formation every hundred or so meters."

Scarcely the words existed her mouth had he jumped over a railing and disappeared.

Liara shot her a look of bewilderment.

"Yeah, he does that. C'mon, lets get a move on."

.

The pair made their way to the rear of the ship. The boardwalk ushered them through a column of tall lightning rods, the base of the rods glowing and cracking with stored electricity. Visibility was low. The storm has ensured a constant stream of dust and flying debris right at their faces.

Within her muddled vision, she spotted a couple of Loki mechs pop out from a maintenance shaft in between the rods. Shepard at once had a moment of immense curiosity. Everyone knows electricity will always follow the path of least resistance. So...

From a distance, she cautiously shot one of the crackling capacitors and the stored lightning discharged. The arcs of blinding and lethal electricity sought and found the easiest path; right through the mechs. The mechs sizzled and exploded outward from the current, the heat and pure charged energy pulverizing the internal mechanisms and frying the sensors of the machines. She doubted that organics would serve any better.

.

As he made his way over the exterior of the ship, he thought of days past. Words flashed though his mind.

"_The rifle", said the captain, "is the first weapon you learn how to use, to keep your distance from the target. The closer you get to becoming a living weapon, the closer you get to the enemy. The knife, is the last thing you will learn here." _They slowly built the desensitization of ending a life.

Shepard's voice came over the comm.

"The ship has capacitors that discharge built up lightning. Shoot them from a distance and they light up like a Christmas tree. Looks like fried mercenary's back on the menu!"

"Roger."

He was glad she always made light of the situation. This was a harsh line of work.

He stayed clear of maintenance shafts, slinking over the passages and under plates. He had already moved forward two-hundred-fifty meters without meeting up with Shepard. He saw shots fly off the ships far right side. Had they already advanced that far? He changed course and made his way over.

.

Shepard and Liara had moved farther upward on the right side of the ship. One could not properly appreciate the size of the ship until they had glimpsed the walkways that spanned from end to end.

She reached a door. She opened it and the two walked inside. Within was a truly massive contraption. Hundreds of vertical metal plates slid up and down, sliding within matching plates on the ship, sparks and electric arcs of charged electricity dancing between the plates that grew close but never touched. They fell, lined up with each other, then drew apart again in a cycle.

Liara was amazed. "This ship is incredible! It must have taken decades to build in secret."

"I wonder what happened to the contractors." Shepard said, watching the hypnotic rising and falling.

"I think we can guess."

Shepard's eyes rose upward with the plates and spotted a familiar figure at the very top of the moving mechanism. Three stories above them crouched the Wanderer. She signed to him. He returned with the sign for 'watch me'.

His figure removed a heatsink from his belt and tossed it in between the massive closing plates. As it fell, bright arcs from the plates raced toward the falling sink. The heat sink glowed briefly then exploded with light like a magnesium strip under flame. They all had to shield their eyes from the glare. Then as quickly as it started, the small object disintegrated.

Very, very cool. She gave an acknowledgement. His figure retreated.

Shepard turned back to the Asari. Liara was still blinking her eyes to recover from the blinding light.

Shepard feigned a cough."*Ahem*. Whoops, I dropped a heat sink." Shepard pitched a heat sink as hard as she could in between the plates. The blinding light once again invaded the asari's eyes. She turned away from the needle-like intensity.

"Ugh, was that necessary, Shepard?"

Shepard had already ran off laughing.

.

"Not even a guardrail," Shepard commented as they quickly, carefully, crossed a boardwalk of sorts. "I bet the Broker's agents love patrolling the hull."

"At least the view is nice," Liara offered dryly.

"Yeah. Fantastic."

Right in front of their position stood a large hatch. They moved over.

"There. That hatch leads directly to the communication signals."

The Asari attempted to hack the large doors but her omni-tool was persistently rejected.

"It's locked. I got a bypass shunt program that can crack it."

Liara attached the shunt program to the doors security controls and a holographic progress marker unfolded like the petals of a flower. As soon as the holographic interface blinked to signify it's activation, the ships alarms started blaring.

_Of course._

Shepard's rifle unfolded itself in her hands.

"How long till its open?", Shepard impatiently asked, reading herself against the inevitable onslaught.

"I've never broken into the Shadow Brokers base before." The asari remarked, "Well, not this one anyway."

Rifle fire broke out on the side of the ship but strangely none of it was directed toward them.

The asari peered over the ledge to get a better look. "They're not firing at us."

_Thanks captain obvious._

"Not yet they're not. Wanderer is probably having fun without us."

A squad of living mercenaries appeared and grew closer.

.

The Wanderer was running over the surface of the ship trying to find his way over the obstacle course that was the Shadow Brokers ship. There was no such thing as flat or even-footing here. Catwalks crisscrossed into intersections leading back to itself and over bottomless drops. Taking the road less travelled, he had decided to bend the rules and go over and under whenever possible. He wanted to find a hatch used by agents, not by drones. Organic hatches used by agents led deeper into the ship. Drone hatches were isolated and self sufficient. Machines needed none of the comforts of organic life.

He manoeuvred himself around a corner, quickly climbed over the metal plating and dropped back down to ship level. Hatches. Four of them. Two on the right and two on the left. He picked the closest one.

He inspected the composition and design of the door. They were shut from the inside. Metal was thick. He reached for his sword on his back and grasped air. He was crudely reminded that he did not have the legendary artifact on him... But what upset him the most was the strange feeling he got from its absence. What was this feeling. Regret? Loneliness? Perhaps he had grown accustomed to its reassuring weight and power for too long? A dangerous notion.

While mulling over his thoughts, the ships alarm suddenly blared. As soon at the first blast of sound had thundered, every hatch - including the hatch directly in front of him - swiftly opened, revealing a well armed, ready and very much surprised squad of the Shadow Broker's agents.

The two must have found the main hatch, he reflected.

_I should go._

.

"You sure that shunt is working?" Shepard asked, laying down cover fire to allow Liara to lash out with a biotic warp.

The asari didn't exactly answer her question, and instead said, "It's illegal even on Illium. It didn't come with a warranty.

"But you tested it right?", Shepard insisted.

The asari seemingly ignored her enquiry. "Here come more of them!", she recited.

"Tell me you tested it!" Shepard demanded.

"No time to talk."

"Liara!?"

"I'm sure it won't be much longer!"

_And people tell me I have trust issues,_ she thought to herself.

A familiar voice opened the comm. "Cover fire needed. Cover mine while I cover yours. I'm coming to you."

Liara sent a singularity on their main group of agents to keep them at bay for a moment while they prioritized.

A black form burst into the crossfire with a small platoon following. Shepard lay down a direct line of fire as the approaching mercs threatened to tilt the odds.

She opened the comm. "Alright, got yours. And how about mine?"

"On it."

Without stalling or slowing, the Wanderer's hands swept from his sides to his front as his guns activated. He ran straight through the powerful singularity, his field negating the maelstrom of warped space and lighting his suit ablaze with remnants of dark energy. He leaped right into the agents cowered in cover, his trigger fingers rapidly working at the pistols as he discharged his weapons fire at near point blank. The shots broke right through with the speed of an assault rifle. He ran right over the bodies.

_Never stop moving,_ the black captain commanded in his mind.

.

More agents streamed in from all sides.

Shepard glanced at the shunt. It still had not completed.

"Remember the old days when you could slap omni-gel on everything?" Shepard yelled in between bursts of fire.

"That security upgrade made a lot of people unhappy." Liara returned.

A rocket streaked fast and low.

"Rocket drones! Front of the ship!"

.

The Wanderer circled around, up and over, arriving back to the group that had thinned out from Shepard and Liara's fire. He unloaded like a machine gun, not caring for accuracy at these close ranges.

The heat dissapator grew hot quickly as the waste heat could not be vented at the rate that it was being produced. The red-hot heatsinks were being ejected with deplorable regularity. This was not good. He wasn't concerned about his reaction time, it was adequate. The question was, could the mechanism of the gun keep up with the speed of his hand?

The Wanderer's arms swept downward and it was replaced. The sinks were also growing few.

He spotted rocket drones being deployed from engineers on the far side. He dove straight in.

One of his arms was pointed skyward toward the drone while his other was pointed at the head of an engineer. The resulting projectiles emitted from the respective muzzles silenced both. Down lower, a hatch opened. More agents.

The Wanderer galloped full speed, both his arms extended in front of him and he pressed the triggers as fast as he could to neutralize them before they fanned out. A tunnel of light from the muzzle flashes opened up between himself and his targets, painting them with mass effected shrapnel. The shadow brokers agents flew back lifeless.

And out of the chaos and carnage, the Wanderer felt and heard something go awry within his right pistol. There was a crunch and violent feedback to his hand. Nothing happened when he pulled the loaded trigger.

He had broken the firing mechanism.

Too close to retreat, he brought both of his weapons around and up into the last of the agents, the white hot dissapators breaking off and searing through the lone agents suit. The Wanderer spun on his left foot, sending a boot straight up, kicking the agent right off the catwalk and down onto the planet far below them.

His right pistol had been destroyed by his own hand, his left would now be unable to take the heat. Back to the drawing board.

.

The asari doctor and Shepard picked off each agent as they came closer. They were holding up favourably.

"Their attacks are disorganized." Liara exclaimed, "They'd be more effective if they all attacked at once."

"Please don't give the mercs ideas T'soni."

On cue, a large group appeared.

"You just had to give them tactical advice!"

"But now there'll be fewer left to deal with inside."

"Keep dreaming, T'soni!"

Out of nowhere, the Wanderer flipped over their cover and planed himself squarely beside them. Shepard swore she almost knifed him right then and there from nerves alone.

"Whats the status on the door?" he asked.

"Almost done. Not much longer."

The Wanderer looked at what he had. Two sinks and one working pistol. The pistol was a dangerous liability; it could explode in his hand. There were a few agents left and they were running out of sinks.

To answer their prayers a massive bolt of lightning streaked down from the sky, lighting up the capacitors to full luminosity in a single stroke.

He knew what to do. He pulled his last two sinks off his belt and held them in his hand. He looked at Shepard. She looked at him, then his hand, and nodded.

With that cue he attempted one of the most bizarrely conceived tactics ever attempted. He lobbed the three sinks high and over toward the advancing agents. Just before hitting the ground, Shepard shot the lightning capacitors. Violent crackling arcs of electricity burst forth, trapped both the mercs and sinks in the crossfire. Bright blossoms of light appeared, blinding them - their fire unfocused and distracted. The Wanderer silently jumped over the cover and in, brandishing two of his longest knives, one in each hand.

His dark shape was swallowed by the white light. The agents bleed out before the light ceased.


	47. Chapter 47 : Shadow Broker VII

_I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE_

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"There! The hatch is open!"

The large hatch doors slid open, revealing the dark and cramped interior. It only added to the ever-present ominous atmosphere, further heightening the persistent thought in everyone's minds:

Into the belly of the beast.

The three of them entered through the mouth of the dark serpent.

.

They rounded a corner, revealing unto them a long and dimly lit corridor. Shepard ordered them at once to halt; this was the perfect place for an ambush.

She took a personal inventory. She had enough sinks for another small firefight. She needed more. Shepard made a point to never loot bodies but this escapade of theirs was anything but orthodox.

She turned to the Asari doctor. Liara was fully engaged and intense; the end goal of her quest for revenge drawing to a violent end. Within these walls held Feron and the illusive Shadow Broker. Two beings whom were going to were going to be greeted with two separate extreme ends of the same gun.

She turned to the Wanderer. Although impossible to gather his facial expression from the other side of an opaque helmet, she noticed his fingers ran agitated, constantly shifting and adjusting his grip on the long knives that were now stained with red. It was excitement, she answered to herself as she looked down the corridor, following his line of sight. Despite them being in a completely unknown location, she had fought with him enough times to know that this was _his_ territory, and there was no one else more suited to the task of fighting in dark, enclosed spaces more efficiently.

In the dead silence of her thoughts she heard the pounding feet of agents head up from the bowels of the ship toward them. The Wanderer's head quickly turned to meet hers, looking for any indication to stand and wait. She gave none. He wasted no time.

She saw him twitch ever so slightly, then breeze past her in a sudden burst of speed toward the sound of footsteps. Half way down the long corridor of shadow, the agents popped into view, lined up and opened fire. One of the agents held a rocket launcher. The rocket was fired with no hesitation straight toward the rapidly advancing shape.

She then saw Wanderer pull an impossible manoeuvre as he twisted his body and shoulders right around the rocket casing in flight, folding himself right around back into the smoke trail.

She did not want to know mow much damage his knees subjected themselves to for that movement.

His forward direction now angled toward for a wall, he maintained his speed as his change in orientation conveniently evaded the oncoming barrage of projectiles. He used his momentum to take two steps up the wall and pushed himself off diagonally, sailing through the air right into the middle of the agents' group. His hands flew in an arc, slashing the first's right open at the neck before his feet had found proper ground, the second meeting the opposing blade through the centre of the chest as his right arm swung back. As he twisted to meet the last, three shots burped from the far side of the corridor and plowed the agent back and down to the floor dead.

"You're stealing my thunder." Shepard said, as she put down her smoking weapon. _S__till damned impressive,_ she thought.

The sounds of approaching footsteps echoed once again through the passages.

"Let's move."

The three of them wasted no time as they advanced deeper into the twisted passages.

.

"Hold your positions, no matter the cost." The voice said, sounding over the ships intercom. It was deep and throaty and sounded almost dark: The monster at the end of the labyrinth.

Shepard leaned out of cover to lay fire on an exposed shadow broker agent – an asari vanguard. The clip ran empty and so did the body of the vanguard, ripping through the biotics' barrier. The clip was replaced automatically and she retreated to the barrier. Liara advanced, laying a cover fire toward the last agent at the end of the hall – a salarian engineer. It was only a distraction. The Wanderer was already within striking distance. An eye blink later and the lifeless body fell forward on its knees.

Adapting quickly to the environment, Shepard had established a strategy for clearing out the long sight lines and small spaces. Speed and surprise were essential. They communicated mainly with hand signals and without the comm and little speech. They would rush in, past the fatal funnel points of the narrow doorways and plant themselves behind a beam or barrier within the entrance of the room. The Wanderer, being the quickest of the three, would run straight through at an angle perpendicular to them. If they had been spotted on their entrance, he would draw the startled attention of the agents before being hailed on by her rifle or Liara's biotics. If they had not been spotted... well, they were no longer on the Shadow Broker's payroll. The trail they left was less than clean.

This room marked the fifth they had passed through. Liara signalled her.

"I've downloaded the ships layout. We're headed toward the prison block... and Feron. This next door should open to the block. "

"Good. Glad there's an end to these tunnels."

The asari tapped on the holographic controls. The doors hissed open.

The main block beyond them was an interrogation room, and on the other side of the metal and glass, surrounded by monitors and wires, sat a restrained lone drell.

"Feron!" Liara exclaimed.

The drell blinked and shook his head as he regained consciousness. His eyes widened as an awestruck expression passed over his face. Clearly, he had not expected both Liara and the one-time mass of charred tissue to stand alive before him.

"Liara?!"

The Asari rushed over to the console.

"Hold on! We're getting you out of here!" she shouted, hands furiously typing at the console.

The drell's head rolled back onto the seat. "No!"

A massive electric shock was discharged from the seat, causing convulsive spasms as the electricity was passed through his body. His screams were hoarse.

The Asari's hands dared not touch the console again. "Feron!"

The smell of cooking flesh did more than stir the Commander. The sight of the torture made her shake her head in anger.

"Jesus, what that hell is the Broker trying to do to you?"

"The equipment is sensitive to tampering." the drell explained, catching his breath, "This chair plugs directly into the Broker's info network. You have to shut off the power. Pull me out now, and my brain cooks." The strength required to lift his head proved too great, and it fell back to the seat.

"Do you know where to cut the power?" Liara asked, hurriedly tapping something into her omni-tool.

"It won't be easy. You'll have to go through central operations."

Central operations: The belly of the beast. They still didn't even know what they were to face.

"What do you know about the Broker?" Shepard asked.

"He did this to me."

_No shit,_ Shepard internalized. "I was hoping you'd know what he is." The Commander asked, slightly irritated.

"I never got a good look, but he's big. The guards are terrified of him."

"A krogan?" Suggested Liara.

"I don't know," The drell responded, shaking his head, "but not everyone who visits his office come back out."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Shepard stated, "we're all getting out of here."

"Good. Central operations is down the hall. You know the Shadow Broker's waiting for you, right?"

Clearly, this entire battle of theirs up unto this point was nothing but a casual stroll.

"Yeah," Shepard assured flatly, "I'm counting on it."

"We'll be back for you, Feron!" The doctor promised.

"I'll try not to go anywhere."

Unable to comprehend the drell's sarcasm in the face of death, Shepard turned to the Wanderer, who coincidentally turned to her for the same reason. The drell's inanity of statements made them both wonder why the hell they were here in the first place.

.

Few trigger-happy agents awaited them when they exited the interrogation room overseeing Feron, and it became clear to the three that they were at the final push of the assault on the Shadow Broker's lair. Within a few minutes, they had passed through their last hallway, and at the end a receptionists desk sat empty beside a massive door.

For how big the doorway was, Shepard expected the Broker to be a krogan, or perhaps a turian with an abnormally large ego. Whoever it would turn out to be, they all had their own score to settle. It was safe to say the Broker was already dead man.

Shepard motioned to the doctor to hack the locked door. The Wanderer worked on the terminal on the desk.

"Liara, In all the time you've been chasing the broker, never once did you garner any idea what or who he was?"

"No." the asari said, shaking her head, "The Shadow Broker operates in much the same way the Illusive man does, each cell of his organization can been operated on and cast off without any contact save for his voice."

"Whoever it is, I'm sure we won't have a problem." Shepard remarked, voice full of confidence.

"Never think too highly of yourself, Commander." The Wanderer warned from behind the terminal, "It is a dangerous thought."

Shepard scowled. "Well, _excuse_ me for thinking positively."

The Wanderer could not suppress a sigh. "You know what I meant by that."

"There, it's open." Liara reported, interrupting their bickering. "I'm sure there are more important things to worry about right now."

"Liara's right." The Commander chimed with fervour, hoisting her weapon and surveying the sanctum beyond. "We should continue this pointless conversation when we get back."

As Shepard gave the go ahead and walked through the portal, the Wanderer looked down at the terminal as he got up from the seat. The terminal had registered the doors change in state, logging that the door had been under a manual override from _inside_ the chamber.

That did not make sense.

As the Wanderer looked up just in time to see the last body part of Liara T'soni follow Shepard into the dark abyss, the doors slammed shut and locked behind her.

Far down at the opposite end of the hall, the nearest entrance-way slammed shut and locked. At his fingertips, the terminal blinked out as its power was cut off. He was effectually trapped. It was the Brokers plan all along.

.

Both Shepard and Liara spun immediately as soon as they walked through the portal. The door had closed with enough force to shear a colossus in half. They were separated. This had most likely all been planned. The walls of the room were shielded from wireless transmissions and they did not posses the firepower to burn through the thick door. Jane Shepard knocked the metal of the door twice and leaned her ear closer to listen. Two knocks were heard from the other side of the thick materiel. He was okay.

This pitfall not deter the Commander.

"We move forward."

As Shepard and Liara cautiously entered the massive chamber, Shepard reflected that nothing could have prepared her for what lay beyond the door when it slid open.

Sitting at a massive desk was neither krogan nor turian, but something else entirely. Clothed in shadow, the only distinguishing features were wild, dark, beady eyes, crooked horns, an enormous bulk, and multiple rows of teeth that jutted out from a mouth that exuded a chilling monstrosity.

Besides a reaper, Shepard had never confronted a creature so large and so foreign, and she wasn't quite as confident as she had been in the hallway now that she could actually see what they were dealing with. Gun drawn, Shepard took a few cautious steps forward with Liara flanking her on the left.

The monstrous creature sat forward calmly, interlacing his enormous fingers, seemingly undisturbed about their intrusion. The dark eyes of the Broker took a moment to look each of them up and down before stopping on Shepard.

"Here for the drell?" he speculated. "Reckless, even for you, Commander."

"That bombing on Illium wasn't exactly subtle," Shepard retorted.

"Extreme," the Broker admitted. "But necessary."

The voice was the deep throaty voice from the ships intercom. It sounded like ground glass.

"No, it wasn't!" Liara snapped angrily, glaring daggers at him. "Neither was caging Feron for two years!"

While Liara was fuming, the Broker seemed almost bored.

"Your interference caused all this, Dr. T'Soni.", he explained, "Feron betrayed me when he handed you Shepard's body. The drell is simply paying the price."

While Liara kept the Broker talking, Shepard scanned the room quickly, looking for possible spots for cover and places to attack from. The room was massive, but tactically there weren't too many places she could use to her advantage.

"Someone was bound to come after you for working with the Collectors," She pointed out, her grip on her weapon intensifying.

"It was a mutually beneficial partnership." stated the Broker, as if reciting a fact. "Your arrival is convenient. The Collectors' offer still stands."

"The Collectors are dead. I killed them. All of them."

The Broker said nothing.

A feeling akin to dread crept up the Commanders spine. Her eyes widened. _You're kidding me._

"The Collectors are working for the Reapers." she reasoned, "I sincerely doubt your partnership will remain when their bosses come knocking."

"They need my services, and I need what they have to offer."

"I dunno, I'd think I'll be pretty hard to run a base this size with no crew."

"They're replaceable. Your arrival is barely an interruption." The Broker sneered. "Enough talk. My operations are too crucial to be compromised by a traitor."

"You're quite confident for someone with nowhere left to hide." Liara interjected, voice full of venom.

The Shadow Broker's attention turned away from Shepard and to the asari doctor, cocking his head to the side as he studied her more closely, then with an air of indifference, looked back to Shepard.

"You travel with fascinating companions, doctor. I'm pleased to see you brought me The Wanderer, T'soni. I have quite a few contacts who would be willing to pay a fortune for his mind and body. His eventual dissection will be... interesting."

Shepard and Liara glanced at one another.

"You're not putting a hand on either of them," Liara declared firmly, her finger twitching on the trigger.

"It's pointless to challenge me, asari. I know your every secret, while you fumble in the dark."

The confidence of the creature was nearly palpable, and though she couldn't make out one expression from the other, Shepard was sure he wore one of the smuggest looks in the galaxy.

The asari smirked knowingly at him, and asked, "Is that right? You're a yahg, a pre-spaceflight species quarantined to their homeworld after massacring the Council's first contact teams. This base is older than your planets discovery, which probably means you killed the original Shadow Broker sixty years ago, then took over." Tilting her head to the side, she appraised the yahg, and the fin-like appendages on the sides of his head twitched angrily. "I'm guessing you were taken from your world by a trophy hunter who wanted a slave… or a pet. How am I doing?"

Knowledge is power, and the power in the room was suddenly shifted.

As the Shadow Broker rose from his large desk to tower over them, Shepard finally got a good look at what she was facing. The create rose, light finally reaching its blackened skin, looking like something out of a nightmare. Seeing that it actually had several sets of eyes, it was covered in muscle and hulking.. and there was no question in her mind that the Broker was pissed. The teeth, god, the teeth, met in a triangle that sent mental images of flailing limbs disappearing down its gullet.

The two of them backed up a few steps, preparing themselves for what was to inevitably happen.

With a roar of rage, the Broker slammed his fists into his desk, tearing the large metal slab from it, and hurled it at them with incredible speed.

Being that a rather large piece of desk was hurling towards Liara, Shepard grabbed her around the waist and tackled her to the ground, narrowly avoiding being hit. Liara did not have the reflexes of an N-7 graduate.

A numbing roar broke through the air and Shepard looked up to find the Broker pulling out his assault rifle, aiming it toward them.

_Scramble._

Gritting her teeth, she scrambled to her feet to get back in the fight. Liara took off in an alternate direction.

Shepard look position behind a large console across the wide room, levelled her rifle, and held down the trigger. The recoil was immense but it wore down the monsters kinetic barriers with ease. The Wanderer's upgrades had transformed the rifle into a portable cannon. The Broker stumbled back from the wave of mass effected force.

Shields gone in record time, Shepard retreated to safety behind the barrier while the Broker levelled his own massive rifle one handed and fired.

While firing on Shepard, Liara warped his armour, cracking its composition. Fire from her sub-machine gun wore it down that much quicker.

The Broker hurriedly stepped under the glowing white light emanating from the ceiling above him and a tendril of white seemed to wrap him up like a glove. A localized barrier. The shots didn't get within an inch of him.

"The shield's kinetically sensitive! Energy and projectiles are just going to bounce off!" Liara yelled.

_Energy and projectiles?_

An idea came to her and she returned her pistol to her hip. She cracked her knuckles.

"Then we do this the hard way."

Here was the great Commander Shepard, at first contact with a new and scary alien specie... and she was going to punch it right in the face.

The Commander charged forward to get the Broker's attention and slammed her fist into its hideous face. The blow made the massive creature stumble back, likely more shocked that Shepard actually hit it than truly hurt, and it gave Shepard the opening to hit him again in a right cut. Going for a powerful third, the yahg activated a large omni-shield and batted Shepard across the room with enough force to break hers spine had she not been wearing such heavy armor. One or two of her ribs sharply protested in pain.

Enraged, the Shadow Broker charged.

.

The fight was violent enough to be heard from the other side of the door. Listening and briefly watching from a small hole that had formed from an airborne chunk of desk, the Wanderer felt the testosterone and anger build in his system. As time drew on in his life, each consecutive challenge he faced was treated as an obstacle, an obstacle whose failure at overcoming would be treated as being inexcusable - And each time he reasoned that if he had travelled this far, there was no reason in the universe why this obstacle should stop him this time.

Physical blows upon the doors weakest points did little to improve his situation. One door was all that separated him from the others. One door, designed to withstand fire from several weapons and high power lasers. Had he had his sword with him, this door would been just as effective as paper... and his fury would have brought an end to the Broker.

Helplessness was not a feeling he enjoyed. _No-one _trapped him.

He hurriedly advanced as far backward as he could, face set in a stone expression, submerged behind a wall of frustration. A familiar but ancient force clawed at the back of his mind. He readied himself.

Enraged, the Wanderer charged.

.

Shepard ducked and rolled, barely missed getting squashed from the force of the charging yahg. She delivered a biotic shock-wave to ensure the creature was unable to lash out quickly and used the opportunity to unleash the remainder of her thermal clip directly into the creatures exposed side. At this range, several shots must have travelled deep. It's thick hide would do little to withstand this onslaught.

The Broker roared and barely limped back into the circle to recharge his barrier. It hid behind its shield, cowering. It was hurting.

_Catch 'em with their pants down, _Shepard thought.

She saw her opening and ran towards the Broker, and aware of the thick natural hide of the yahg, embedded her razor sharp combat knife into the sensitive flesh at the elbow, drawing an agonized howl. Momentarily forgetting how anger affects pain and strength, the Broker's shield caught her in her midsection, sending her flying back.

Despite her error of judgement, it didn't seem like the Broker could raise his weapon with an ounce of precision anymore and dark blood dripped from the wound under his arm.

"If you can get him to bring up that shield again," Liara started suddenly, looking up at the shimmering ceiling above them. "I've got an idea."

Shepard attempted bursts of fire toward the limbs of the yahg, unable to hide behind its shield completely due to its large size.

_Just one more push._

_._

The Wanderer charged the entrance, concentrating all of his considerable might in the triangular point of his shoulder. It was a blow that would have felled a large krogan; And while the door was tested for heat dispersion and moderate physical resistance, it was certainly not Wanderer-proof. Already weakened from the earlier sustained damage, the metal portal buckled like the front end of a car hitting a wall.

The Wanderer's momentum took him through the door, and a quarter way into the inner sanctum – directly in the middle of the fight-fight. In a rage, he kept right on going. His last rational thought had been to help the others. Now his sole aim was nothing less than the decapitation of the monster that was the Shadow Broker.

While the Shadow Broker was comprised of considerable bulk and was moving defensively, the yahg had nothing on the unstoppable force that took the form of the ancient monster whose muscles burned with anger for the first time after thousands of years. The Wanderer barreled his shoulder into the omni-shield, cracking it, and sent the enemy stumbling back, the contest of strength at once lost to the Broker. The Wanderer's fist tightened and shot forward like a battering ram, shattering the fabricated omni-sheild like glass.

Enraged to the point of insanity by his rapidly deteriorating situation, it charged forward, delirious and confused, while the dark warrior rolled and ran.

This was the break Shepard and Liara needed.

No longer pro-occupied about receiving the shields edge, Shepard evaded the Broker easily, ducking under the Brokers outstretched arm.

"Liara! Now!"

Glowing bright blue with biotic energy, Liara grasped the glass of the energy shield above the Broker and applied pressure. The material cracked, then shattered, and the asari brought it down on top of him with tremendous force.

No longer contained, the substance within fell around the Shadow Broker like a waterfall of pure light, super-charging the Broker with enough energy to induce molecular disintegration of metal and flesh alike. The overload of power caused the Shadow Brokers form to disintegrate, howling, into nothing.

It was over.

.

Panting heavily, Liara staggered over to Shepard and helped her to her feet, and a second later she was joined by the Wanderer.

Shepard rose to her knees before falling back into a seated position, in no hurry to get up.

Hand on her back, The Wanderer gently hoisted her up.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm going to need more of that tea," she stammered out, taking shallow breaths. Her ribs hurt like hell, like someone had beat them with a meat tenderizer. They would heal. "But I'll be fine."

"And you Liara?"

She was about to say something, but the crackling over the terminal drew her attention away.

"_Shadow Broker, this is Operative Murat. We had a momentary connections failure," _the man on the other end of the terminal. _"Can you confirm status?"_

Almost immediately, a woman came through. _"Operative Shora requesting update. Are we still online?" _

"_Shadow Broker, I've lost our feed. We are online and awaiting instructions."_

Dozens upon dozens of voices filtered in from all over the galaxy requesting a status update. So many worked for the Shadow Broker, so many provided valuable information that could turn the tide of any conflict. The amount of power here was... incredible.

Liara stared at the massive terminal, entranced, before snapping out of it and stepping forward, swiping her finger across the screen to open a channel. She double checked the layout before she took a steadying breath and spoke into the open comm channel.

"_This is the Shadow Broker,_" she said calmly, voice made to match the yahg's. "_The situation is under control. We experienced a power fluctuation while upgrading hardware. It disrupted communications momentarily._"

Through the crumpled doors ran the formerly imprisoned drell, pistol drawn. When he realized just who he was aiming it at, his jaw slackened for the second time that day and he lowered the weapon.

"_However, we are now back online. Resume standard procedures,"_ Liara continued, hardly glancing at her friend. "_I want a status report on all operations within the next solar day. Shadow Broker out."_ Switching off the channel, she took a step back and simply stared at the terminal.

"Goddess of oceans... It's you. You.. How?" the drell stammered out.

"Well," Liara said, head turned, "Everyone who's ever seen him in person is dead so..."

Feron exhaled in an exasperated tone. "...You're the new Shadow Broker."

_It was certainly an upgrade,_ Shepard thought.

"Is taking over as the Shadow Broker really a good idea?" she asked, concerned.

"It was either that or lose everything: His contacts, his trading sources. Those will really help us. With the Shadow Broker's information network, I can give you.. I can..."

Sensing an emotional moment, Feron made himself scarce. "I'll, uh, check the power systems."

The Wanderer politely joined him.

The exhausted asari leaned over the terminal tears streaming down her face. She buried her head in her hands. The emotional catharsis was the tap opening wide after two years of pain hidden from the world.

"It's over. It's finally... for two years.."

Shepard stepped forward and hugged her friend in a tight embrace. Although Shepard couldn't go back in time to change things, being there for a friend in need was something she would always be available for.

"It's all right." Shepard whispered.

The Asari squeezed back and Shepard felt her sigh. It was a sigh that let go of everything from the past two years in an instant. And for a moment, the old Liara was back right in front of her. Shepard would never fully grasp just how much of a burden her death had placed on her friends, but she had no illusion of its impact.

The Asari released her hold slowly. "Thank you Shepard."

Drained, she walked over to the terminal and tapped out a few commands.

"No safeguards or user restrictions. It's like he never anticipated anyone but himself being here. And it's all ours."

"You sure you want to stay here? I could use you on the Normandy."

"I have to stay here. We can't pass this up Shepard. All I wanted was to rescue Feron. But.. is it wrong that part of me wants this?" She turned to face her. "With the Shadow Broker's network, I can help you. Maybe I can turn this operation into something better."

Shepard saw the hints of the old excitement light up the doctors face, and she knew everything would be alright.

"Don't be a stranger this time."

Liara T'Soni nodded with a warm smile. "Come by when you have a chance. The doors are always open."

Shepard nodded, glad, then turned and walked away.

.

"You know, the view isn't half bad." the Wanderer remarked, just as Shepard joined him on the railing.

The shutters were open and the planet beyond stretched in front of them. And although the skies were coloured in shades of yellow and brown, the shapes of the clouds and bright sunlight painted a beautiful picture.

"Meh, I think I've had enough of this place to last a while. But...", Shepard confessed, as she snapped a quick holo with her omni-tool. "I certainly agree with you on the view."

They both stoop slouched over the railing, tired and calm.

"Before I forget," Shepard said as she tapped a command on her omnitool. "Found something you might be interested in. Merry Christmas."

The Wanderer's omni-tool lit up to signify that a file transfer was complete. It was the specs for the Shadow Broker's omni shield.

"Much obliged. I think I can put it to good use." He tapped a command to store it for later.

"No problem." The Commander shook her head. "Heck of a week. And here I thought it would be a good warm up before heading back to fight the reapers."

"Certainly." he replied, head bobbing up and down. "I'll admit it did seem to have escalated rather quickly. Speaking of which, what was that... thing?"

"A yahg." Shepard said matter-of-factually.

"Ah."

"Yep. Wait," Shepard had a double-take, "you actually didn't know what it was?"

"No."

"Oh, wow." Shepard remarked, with a feigned shocked look on her face, "Let me revel in this moment for a few minutes. Something that the Wanderer did not know!"

He shook his head with good humor. "You're an ass."

"Ah well, allow me educate you then. The yahg are a species of towering humanoids native to the world of Parnack, and are known for their violent and aggressive nature. They were discovered by the council in 2125 CE and were barred after they massacred the Council's delegation. They have four-pairs of eyes; the better to see you with my dear, and are jacked head to toe with muscle. Like a salarian and a krogan rolled into one."

It was his turn to be surprised. "Wow." The Wanderer said, genuinely impressed with her knowledge, "And how did you come to know all of this?"

"I literally just read it five minutes ago on the terminal behind you."

He could not hold back a chuckle.

"You have powerful friends Shepard. Our odds have just increased by quite a bit. I can already think of a few uses for our new-found information network."

"Tell me later when my stomach is full. You heading back to the ship soon?"

"Soon. I have something to take care of first."

.

"Miss T'soni. I was wondering If I could have a moment of your time."

Startled, Liara's head jerked upward to the sound of the Wanderer's voice. She found him standing just off to the side, and she had no idea how long he could have been there before making himself known.

"Yes, of course. What do you need, Wanderer?" The Asari asked him, inquisitively.

"I would like to make a deal; a bargain, if you will." he said, clasping his hands in front of him.

Liara was naturally wary of him. She leaned backward, eying him with slight suspicion. "What kind of deal?"

"As you already know, a certain former rouge Spectre was selling the former Shadow Broker information about me. That is something that I cannot allow. I would like to have that information destroyed."

"Consider it done." the asari said, without much hesitation. She would have asked the same.

"Wait." The warrior held up his hand. "I do not accept charity. Any deal with me will be an equivalent exchange."

"Okay." she said as she folded her arm in front of her. "What do you propose?"

"I am willing to buy back the information immediately, but seeing as how your new position will guarantee a fairly large steady stream of credits, I would like to offer something I think will be much more valuable. Something that no one else in this galaxy can give."

Liara's eyes looked inquisitive. "Which is?"

"An interview with me." he said, "I will answer any questions you have. Of-the-record of course. I understand that you have studied the Protheans for most of your life. I lived among them for thousands of years, and I'm sure I can fill you in on some unanswered questions you may have."

"That... would be incredible... and hardly an equivalent exchange on my part."

"Think of it as an advance payment for a possible partnership in the future." he added. This deal would serve him well.

"You've got yourself a deal."

They shook hands. It was one of the oldest short rituals on completing an agreement.

"Excellent. Until we meet again, Shadow Broker..."

"Please, it's just Liara."

"Understood. Goodbye Liara."


	48. Chapter 48 : Developments

Once back aboard the Normandy, the Wanderer wasted no time in retreating to his quarters. Passing right on through the halls and past the inquisitive crew members, he reached him room, locked it and cut himself off from the rest of the Normandy before he was disturbed. He had things to do.

Disarming himself, he cast off the pieces of his suit carefully, always treating it with greatest care. Whether it was because he felt compelled to compensate it for how it was so roughly it was treated in the field, or whether he was ensuring its continual proper function for as long as possible, he was not sure, but while in storage it was treated most delicately.

When he finished unloading, he tapped his omni-tool, transferring the omni-shield specs to the data centre aboard the Normandy. Data and files in EDI's possession were among the most secure in the galaxy. Very few systems would be able to stand to toe-to-toe with a full AI on the other side of a firewall. He would have the specs brought up later when he wanted to play around with its design.

He then activated a connection to the Shadow Brokers base. The Normandy would leave it's vicinity soon and he wanted to quickly grab as much information as he could before they retreated back to the void. His appetite for knowledge did not dull with age. He pulled files on flagged persons that the previous Shadow Broker had gathered:

Dossiers on everyone in Shepard's squad.

The Wanderer.

High ranking Alliance officials.

Cerberus.

The Illusive man.

Aria.

The original Shadow Broker.

The second Shadow Broker.

He ran a separate deep-web search on the extranet from a gateway on the Shadow Brokers ship for more information about the Yahg. Besides Liara's own gathered info, the Yahg-turned-Shadow Broker had erased almost all information about his people and its home planet from his own network for fear of discovery.

Interesting. It seemed they had something in common.

He compiled the available data and displayed all info on the large holo projector he had installed within the room. With a flick of his wrist he quickly skimmed through the dossier files on Shepard's team.

The first thing he noticed was that the Shadow Broker's reports differed greatly from those of the Illusive man's. The Illusive man's were careful and deliberate, most likely worked on by a team to ensure consistent data. It was comprised of several reports generated with a historical time-line, physical and psych evaluations, almost as if each member had tried enlisting for service. The Shadow Broker's reports however, were mainly comprised of snatches of logs, transmissions; just raw data grabbed from hear and there. Messy, but at times, insightful. Within the dossiers he pulled he discovered incredibly personal logs and private messages from the crew. As tempting as it was, the raw secrets within the Shadow Broker's dossiers on the team were not his to know. He scrapped them from his personal archive before the temptation proved too great.

He doubted he could say the same for Liara.

With a nervous flick of his fingers, he turned his itching attention to the files listed under 'The Wanderer' . What greeted him was much more information than he anticipated. The broker had spent considerable effort gathering data about him.

_Subject operating under pseudonym 'Wanderer'. Unidentified species, closely resembles human, __suggested to supersede the protheans.__ Observations suggest that robust nervous system accelerates tissue regeneration and possible long term effects of cellular ageing. Past so far indiscernible. Has begun a close working relationship with Commander Shepard after her return from the galactic centre. Intelligent, paranoid, and posses exceptional __tactical __and __combat skills. Responsible for technology advancements aboard the Normandy SR-2, Crucible v2 and __Thanix __cannon. Large sword is an artifact of interest. Capture a high-priority._

_UPDATE: Two deep cover-operatives assigned to the observation of subject._

_UPDATE: Operatives re-assigned to remove Dr. Liara T'soni after cover agent Nyxeris discovered._

_UPDATE: Operatives failed to remove the doctor. Replacements will need to be found. _

_UPDATE: Commander Jane Shepard, Dr. Liara T'soni and Subject 'Wanderer' have boarded main base. The asari's neutralization will be carried out immediately. The Commander will preferably be collected dead as Collector offer still stands. 'Wanderer' will be captured – Interrogation and dissection will yield valuable information. Collectors will be notified after capture and verification of unknown specie._

That was the end of the log. _Never_ underestimate your enemy.

The rest of the files were mostly pictures. Many of them were from the Illusive man's dossier, suggesting that the Shadow Broker had agents in Cerberus. Some were images of himself and Shepard together on Illium, the Citadel and Omega. A footnote at the bottom of the images read: _"Possible intimate relationship. Direct manipulation of relationship unlikely to produce any desired outcome with presently gathered data." _

It was a troubling thought. The Shadow Broker's methods were dirty but unfortunately effective. A tongue of fire sprung internally in his chest, angering him. This is why he kept his distance from others. It was because of people like this.

His eyes narrowed. There was another album and sub-folder under his main collection of research. He flicked it open.

Unexpectedly, it was filled with information about his sword. There were several shots of his suit and his back, where it most often rested, images of various objects and mutilated bodies torn asunder from it, and a cold analysis regarding its incredibly clean cuts regardless of which material it was swung at. A report by a ballistics and weapons researcher stated that he was baffled by the lack of any evidence of abrasion or wear on the materials, even tougher metals. It explained how any blade or blunt object would have left behind something, anything, after its violent contact with another object from the friction between the two surfaces. There were no flakes of the black metal, micro shards, plasma trails or evidence a weapon was ever used even though visual evidence was firm. It was labelled as an 'Artifact of interest.'

As he read the report, an old feeling of possessiveness washed over him, the weapon's long and clouded history putting his mind on high gear. The Wanderer's eyes darted to the weapons table where his sword was presently resting. After untold centuries and millenia, he had made little progress into its nature. Momentarily suspending his research, the warrior with no name slowly walked over to the table and grasped it's blade, feeling the rough and cold metal under his warm and fleshy hands. At his touch, a pulse of deep green spread from the point of contact, glowing faintly along the tiny webs and circuit pathways strewn about on its surface.

It's technology was beyond him.

It seemed to warp the very air around it when he swung it, he thought, cutting through any substance down through the molecular level. He doubted the black metal actually ever made physical contact with the object he was striking. He had at one time suspected it was reaper tech, but even the reapers did not posses such a level of technology, and besides, reaper technology was based on element zero - and this sword had none of that. It was old, he knew that. Older than him, older than his species. It was entirely possible that it was older than the reapers, but he had no way of knowing. Then why, he thought to himself, would an incredibly advanced civilization create a weapon who's range was limited to the arm length of the wielder? Why bother with a melee weapon at all? Why not create fantastically accurate and durable long range projectile or energy based guns? Was the sword simply ceremonial? What happened to its creators? Why are there no other artifacts that have persisted through the ages? And as much as he wanted to believe that it was an inanimate object, nothing proved it. He somehow just _knew_ it's history was long and bloody although there was not a single document that had ever existed that told him.

_It_ told him.

His train of thought was shattered as his on-board comm sputtered to life. He had forgotten to close it.

"You there?" the deep voice said, "Heard the shuttle came back. Hope you're in a good enough condition for the fight you promised me. A chance for me to crush your squishy body into small pieces! Ha!"

He let go of the weapon, letting it fall back to the table with a clatter. He would contemplate this later.

He turned to look at the comm. The Wanderer was one of the only crew members who dared spar with a krogan. Grunts voice sounded much too enthusiastic about his decapitation for his liking.

"Sure thing Grunt. Meet me in the bay in two hours." he answered. The Wanderer's finger reached for the cut-off but stopped. He had an idea.

"How about we raise the stakes?" he proposed, "I bet I can take you down to the floor with my bare hands. If your crest touches the floor, I win. If you get any part of me other than my feet or hands to the floor, you win. Loser buys the winner a bottle of Ryncol."

"Sounds like an easy challenge. You better get the bottle ready." Grunt closed the channel.

The Wanderer immediately opened a channel to Thane's quarters.

"Thane, If you needed to take down a krogan, what would you recommend?"

"A krogan?" There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I would utilize a well placed bomb."

"Uh," he did not expect that. "Something a little more hands on. I've heard you have been trained to stun a krogan despite their redundant nervous systems. Is it possible?"

"Yes, it is possible, but incredibly dangerous." answered the scratchy voice of the drell. "If not preformed quickly and with perfect accuracy, the krogan's blood rage will crush you. I personally do not utilize it unless there is no other option or stealth is critical."

"Could you possibly show me the basics?" the warrior asked, "I know a little about the krogan nervous system but I'm not sure what to strike or when. Can you meet me in the bay in an hour?"

"Yes I can. May I ask why?"

"I'll explain when I'm down there. See you in an hour." he closed the comm and turned back toward the open holo. As much as he wanted to test himself, he had more pressing concerns at the moment.

The second last file in the folder, he discovered, was a short video taken from a security camera. He recognized it. It was himself, Shepard and Thane, raiding an Eclipse base in the not-to-distant past. The implications connected themselves: Vasir was working for the Shadow Broker and was most likely working as a middleman between the borker and Dominic Solis.

Dominic Solis: The last link in the chain of those who would threaten to expose him.

As much as this deduction troubled him, the last image in his file hit him like a punch to the gut. It was an image of his face, uncovered, as he was speaking to Aria on her loft in Omega. It was a far shot from across the club, but it captured the left side of his face clearly.

The feeling of heaviness settled in his stomach, and at once a panic silently shrilled in his head. This could potentially be catastrophic. He had to trust that the Shadow Broker had kept this specific file of his private until his capture. If not, besides those who paid for this information, Dominic Solis would now know that 'Solomon Farren' - the mild-mannered, sophisticated human and CEO of Cryptox industries was helping raid his bases with none other than Commander Jane Shepard.

He sent a message to Liara with the go-ahead to purge the data for both his own as well the files on Shepard's team. Within seconds he received a confirmation. Good. It was a start.

He saved his own dossier files in the Normandy's data center for follow up later.

Out of habit, he glanced back toward his sword on the table. Perhaps he could try to shed light on his questions that had gone unanswered. When he was a small child, he had read stories of it: Myths, legends, storybook tales. He grew up knowing it was fantasy. You could imagine his surprise when he actually found it years later, behaving exactly like how the stories depicted it...

There were more important things to learn about.

The Wanderer sat himself down in the chair and clasped his hands, his elbows supported on the table. He flicked his fingers out, then pulled them together to assemble the different sources into a similar format for easier reading. At the front of the stack, information on the yahg was presented. He started reading.

.

_He quietly snuck into the study. Careful not to wake his sleeping parents, he tiptoed across the cold, smooth floor. The motion activated lights sprung to life as soon as his body was detected and he hurriedly reached for the manual shut off. Tall enough, but not quick enough, the bright light shone through the house for a slit second, blinding him for a few seconds. _

_Holding his breath, he listened for any sounds of stirring. There was none. _

_He tiptoed past the terminal, past the digital toys and gadgets and found his way to the small drawer built into the desk. He had 'borrowed' the key to the desk. He would return it when he was done. No one would know._

_Making slow moments to avoid making noise, he pushed the magnetic key into its slot. The bottom drawer of the desk clicked open loudly. He winced, but the hardest part of his mission was over. Within that drawer was the reason for his sneaking ways. _

_He reached within the dark space and hoisted out a heavy book. A book; something rare and quite expensive. It was very old, ancient even: a volume bound with organic pages from a time long gone. The surface was soft, warm and worn. He lifted the book to his nose to inhale the smell. _

_As much as he loved the smell, the young boy thought, he loved the stories more, and this book held his favourite. He creaked open the large cover into its faded pages and quickly found his favourite page. He had read it so many times, but it never failed to dazzle him. _

_It was a story about a sword._

_As he read excitedly, a world spun around him and a hero emerged to save the day. In his hands held the sword triumphantly above his head and cheered._

_In the dark silence of the __study__, his imagination took flight. _


	49. Chapter 49 : Arrival I

Shepard's comm sputtered out a notification as she passed it on the CIC, its mechanical sounding voice alerting her to a new message.

"Incoming message from Admiral Steven Hackett, Alliance HQ."

_Hackett? _Wasting no time, she quickly tapped a button on the console to continue. Pre-recorded, the Admiral's distinctive tired voice played over the speaker.

"Commander Shepard. I need to discuss a sensitive matter with you privately." said the message, ending with an audible click. _Privately?_ Odd, she thought. He usually had no qualms about talking right over the ships loudspeaker.

She entered the elevator and selected the button for her quarters.

.

Shepard locked her door, approached her desk and tapped a command on her terminal to open a direct connection to the admiral. The lights in her loft dimmed and a holographic image of Admiral Steven Hackett grew till it filled the entire glass front of her model spaceship collection.

Besides possessing a rank that forced her to stand at attention, he was one of the few people in the galaxy whom she harboured a sense of utmost respect and fierce loyalty.

Everyone knew his story. Born in Buenos Aires in 2134, he was placed in the Advanced Training Academy for Juveniles when his mother died in 2146. His affinity for science and leadership quickly became evident, and by 2152, Hackett was enlisted and volunteering for high-risk missions to colonize space beyond the Sol Relay. He was commissioned as a second lieutenant in 2156 and participated in the First Contact War the following year. His rare ascent from enlisted man to admiral remains an Alliance legend. Hackett was a good man, the kind of Admiral a solider dreamed of serving under: Competent, forgiving and genuinely concerned about the welfare and opinions of the men and woman serving under him. One of the three officers who recommended her as the first human Spectre, she owed him for everything, and his trust in her had accomplished incredible things. Besides leading to her promotion to Spectre status that enabled her to chase Saren and uncover the truth about the reapers, he trusted her judgement during the battle of the citadel. Although at the cost of many human lives, the decision of leading the fleet to defend the Destiny Ascension resulted in saving the council, the untold number of the dreadnaught's crew, and secured a seat on the Council for humanity.

"Commander. Thank you for your time. I'll keep this brief." he stated; the holo's light casting an orange tinted glow on the surfaces of her cabin. "We have a deep-cover operative out in batarian space. Name's Doctor Amada Kenson. recently reported that she found evidence of an imminent Reaper invasion."

True to his character, the news exited his mouth without any indication of haste or distress. She waited for a continuation, perhaps hoping that he would admit that he was joking or even overestimating the situation. The was one problem though, he didn't joke.

The news struck her as both horrifying and odd. If the evidence was truthful, he should have alerted every species in the galaxy rather than talking to her privately.

"So why call me, Sir?"

She knew she would not like the answer.

"Just this morning I received word that the batarians arrested her. They're holding her in a secret prison outpost on terrorism charges. I need you to infiltrate the prison and get her out of there." And as if the news wasn't bad enough, he added: "As a favour to me, I'm asking you to go in alone."

She shook her head in disbelief, "Alone? I have a hell of a squad with me. I'm sure they'd help out."

The Admiral shook his head. "No. Kenson is my friend. If the batarians see a squad of armed soldiers, they'll kill her. This is serious Commander. Go in with discretion, or don't go at all."

She leaned against the shelf behind her, hesitant as she weighed her options. "That must be some proof she found."

"Kenson's team found an artifact out in batarian space. She believes it's a Reaper device, proof that the Reapers are indeed planning to invade, and soon. I've known her a long time. If she says she has proof, it's worth checking out."

Begrudgingly, she accepted the mission. "What else can you tell me about the operative?" she asked.

"Amanda is a top scientist and Allicance agent working in batarian space. It's a deadly assignment, and she's on the few up to the challenge. She and I go back pretty far, Commander. I won't let her rot away in a batarian torture camp."

Seeing as the current state of affairs between humanity and the batarians were tense as it were, the thought was chilling. Who knows what they were doing to the poor doctor.

"The batarians won't take kindly to the Alliance breaking into a secret prison."

"This is not an Alliance operation - it's a one person going in alone to save a friend. If it were official mission, of course the batarians would be upset. You keep this quiet, Shepard, and there's nothing to worry about."

Except for one thing, Shepard thought to herself, nothing _ever_ goes according to plan.

"I'll make this a top priority."

"Thank you, Shepard." Hackett responded, gratefully. "The prison is hidden underground at a batarian outpost on Aratoht. I'll upload the coordinates now." His head lowered, seemingly tapping away at the terminal in front of him. "Once she's secure, confirm her discovery. We'll debrief you when you're back."

"Got it."

He nodded to her. "Hackett out."

Closing the connection, the holoscreen faded and her lights grew back to full luminosity, leaving her staring at the model Reaper she had on display.

_Too soon._

.

Activating the galaxy map, Shepard zeroed in on the planet Aratoht in the Viper Nebula. It rested on one of the farthest spiralling arms of the milky way galaxy, almost looking like it was a separate entity in comparison the rest of the tightly packed gases and stars that made up the mass of matter of the galaxy they all called home.

"Shepard," Started EDI's hologram, "The Batarian Hegemony considers any presence of Alliance military vessels in batarian space as hostile. The Normandy SR2, while an independent vessel, strongly resembles the Normandy SR1, an Alliance ship. Use of stealth systems is highly recommended."

"Thanks for the heads-up EDI." She opened a channel to Joker. "Joker, get us to Aratoht... silently. We don't want to start a war."

"Aye, Aye, Commander."

With a destination set, she had time on her hands. She needed to talk to the Wanderer.

.

Passing the cargo bay viewing window on the way to his quarters, she glanced briefly thought the glass in habit before stopping in her tracks and backing up in surprise.

The man she was looking for was below her.

On the bay floor, a crude white circle was outlined on the metal floor, both the Wanderer and Grunt circling each other around the outer rim. Although she could only see and not hear, she could imagine the sorts of commotion this was causing below her.

On one side of the circle, Grunt extended his thick arms outward, fingers flexing, maximizing his chances of catching the Wanderer. He wore a wide, smug grin. Confidence personified, she could see him taunting the man to step a foot forward. The Wanderer on the other end, stood tall, entirely still and collected. His eyes were narrowed slightly, giving the impression he was observing every muscle fibre that moved on the hulking krogan.

Grunt charged forward, hoping to catch the Wanderer unprepared and breaking the deadlock. Without a moments hesitation, the Wanderer ducked under Grunts arm almost effortlessly, returning to his straight stance immediately. Surprised, the krogan turned and charged again. The Wanderer side-stepped, twisted his body and recovered just as easily.

The truth was, Shepard thought to herself, Grunt was slow. He was slow and it didn't matter if he was. On the battlefield he had monster shields, one ton of heavy armor, and a krogan physiology. He was a walking tank, and it didn't matter if he was slow because you couldn't kill him even if he stood still. If Grunt got a hold of the Wanderer however, his strength would ensure that the match would be over. _IF_ he got a hold of the Wanderer. He was having some difficulty. The Wanderer was too fast, but Grunt seemed to be immovable.

The Wanderer grabbed one of his arms with the other for added power and delivered a swift but powerful right elbow to the side of Grunts face. It was a bold move, and a dangerous one; it seemed to accomplish nothing but anger the tank bred. Now quite angry, the Krogan charged again, headfirst. Cringing, Shepard prepared herself to see the Wanderer being sent flying out of the circle. Instead she saw him drop himself to the floor on his hands and feet as stiff as a board. As the Krogan stumbled over him surprised, he tucked his legs into his abdomen, placing his shoulder against Grunts leg and used all his might to stand straight up. As Grunt charged, his weight was shifted to the front, putting all his power toward his upper body. Using his shoulder as a fulcrum for the advancing krogan, the Wanderer stood up, lifting Grunt into the air and sending the Krogan flat on his back.

The match was still not over however, and neither of them showed any indication that there had been a victor. She wondered what the terms of the fight were.

Now thoroughly irked, Grunt scrambled to his feet. He stood low, making slow steps to prevent the Wanderer from dodging. Unlike most sentient species, krogan eyes are wide-set; giving the krogan 240-degree vision. From his current place in the circle, it meant that he had eyes on every movement. The Wanderer shifted to a lower stance as well, realizing that his old tactics would no longer work.

Grunt swung at him, a miss. It turned out to be a feint, as he swung his arm backward in a wide arc. At such close quarters, he didn't miss. The force knocked the Wanderer back a few steps, just at the edge of the circle. Wanting to ensure a victory, he grabbed the Wanderer's arm. From the grimace on the mans face, she could tell it was a vise. The Wanderer turned and twisted the arm, jutting the Krogan forward just on the edge. Grunt didn't even have to counter it. He roughly shoved his arm around, forcing the man to release his hold or being flung from the ring. They both retreated to opposite ends of the circle again, watching each other.

Grunt charged. Expecting an attempted dodge, Grunt held his arms completely open, exposing the front of himself completely. The Wanderer didn't budge. This is what he was waiting for. Making a straight line directly toward the outstretched arms of the krogan, he reached up and used both his arms to deliver a double-strike to Grunts eye ridge and a nerve strike to his open throat, followed by a secondary nerve strike to the neck to counter the krogan blood-rage. Though Grunt was momentarily stunned, the krogans arms closed around the humanoid form with a crushing force.

She winced; there would be nasty bruises later.

Unfazed, the man delivered two knees to the krogan's abdomen, and used the bent form and loss of balance to grip each side of Grunts skull as he brought the krogan's head and crest right into the ground with a triumphant roar.

There was a commotion of activity below her and Grunt shook his head dejectedly. She sensed the match was over.

The Wanderer turned and looked up toward her, and without further adieu, took a courteous bow.

If she possessed a handkerchief, she would have been waving it.

.

When he eventually came up to his room clutching a newly acquired bottle of ryncol, he found the Commander sitting cross legged upon one of his chairs, peering intently at the small trinkets that adorned his desk.

"Sorry to barge in like this, but I was never one to stand around idly." she explained, momentarily fascinated by a triangle of stone with small engraved lettering adorning its surface.

"Don't mention it." he replied, setting down the bottle on the table, "This _is_ your ship, after all."

Her gaze travelled along the top of the table until it found the bottle.

"You two had a score to settle?"

"We had a wager of sorts." he said with a grin. "Winner received a bottle of ryncol. Care for a drink, Commander?"

She shook her head. "No thanks, I'd rather not be puking my guts out. Most of us squishies rather not be setting off radiological alarms."

He chuckled to himself. "Fair enough. So,", he said, settling into his own chair, "What brings you to my humble dwelling?"

Shepard took her time to break the news. "I just spoke to Hackett." she said.

There was a pause.

"Yes, and...?" he urged.

"A trusted friend of his found evidence of an imminent Reaper invasion."

There was a small fleeting moment of his mouth opening and closing silently, at a loss of words. He settled, his brow furrowed and dark.

"What kind of evidence!?"

"The Alliance has a deep-cover operative out in batarian space. The scientist's name is Dr. Amanda Kenson." she relayed to him. "Apparently Kenson's team found an artifact out in batarian space. She believes it's a Reaper device, proof that the Reapers are indeed planning to invade, and soon."

He stared into space, thinking hurriedly. "The Alliance has not reported this finding to the rest of the galaxy yet." he deduced. "I would have known about it by now." His eyes focused back on hers. "Why have they not?"

"The batarians arrested her. They're holding her in a secret prison outpost on terrorism charges. I'm going to infiltrate the prison and get her out of there before they unknowingly doom us all."

Unsettled, the Wanderer got up from the chair and paced around the room, dark lines etched on his face. The atmosphere seemed to change at once. A dark heaviness seemed to settle upon the room. She recalled that this was the first time she had ever seen him worried like this.

"I suppose it was going to happen eventually." he muttered, shaking his head. "Where are we headed?"

"Aratoht."

"I've heard of it. That's on the far side of the galaxy, isn't it? Batarian space." He formulated dark thoughts. "We have only a few hours before we get there. We need to get ready."

"Correction,_ I_ need to get ready." Shepard, explained. "I've been ordered to go solo on this one."

His pacing stopped. He turned to her sharply.

She did not wait for his disagreement. "As you can imagine, this a sensitive matter." she reminded him.

He agreed, begrudgingly.

"However," Shepard explained, waving her finger, "just because I'm heading down there alone doesn't mean I don't need your help. I want you to stay in contact and give me updates real-time."

"You have EDI to do that."

"You have something she doesn't. Instinct and experience. I'm authorizing EDI and Chakwas to give you temporary access to my suits feed, biometrics stats and Normandy sensors. I need every edge I can get. No human has ever escaped alive from this place." she said, her fist curling into a ball. "I intend to break that record."

He loved it when she had that steely look. Nothing could stand in her way.

"So,"she asked him, hard blue eyes connecting with his. "Do I have your support?"

"I'm deeply hurt that you would expect any answer other than 'Yes'."

"Good." She said, nodding to him. Before she rose from his chair, she picked up a small object from the desk.

"This. Is this what I think it is?" she asked him, holding the object up in front of her.

It was the scorched and broken ivory piano key.

He nodded solemnly. "It is."

"How did you get this?"

"I found it floating in the ocean," he said quietly, "far from home."

"I can't believe it survived the blast." she said, tuning it over in her hands. The shining white that it once was had been consumed by the heat, turning it black. She rubbed the side of the key with her thumb, trying in vain to rub off the darkness. When she found she could not, she gently placed it back down in it's original place.

For no apparent reason, she could not shake the feeling of foreboding that washed over her.

"Just like us, I suppose." she whispered.


	50. Chapter 50 : Arrival II

"Starting up systems. All suit functions undergoing diagnostics. Raptor moving to optimal position for tracking. T-minus ten seconds. Stand-by."

The controller expanded the hologram of the planet and its orbiting starship until it could be easily manipulated by the movements of his hands. The wire mesh holographic model of the ship slowly matched up with it's intended location as it overlapped a dotted outline. A small blue dot rose from ground elevation to meet up with the orbiting orange one.

"Bird has returned to the coop. Raptor in position. Bringing sensors online. Stand-by."

The controller's leftmost holopad warmed to life as it wavered for a minute before its orange, green, and blue lines weaved and organized themselves into visual data.

The man reached for a pair of force-feedback gloves that lay on the surface of the console and slipped them over his hands, pulling them at the bottom to make sure they were tight. Haptic interfaces in this era had become so common that most individuals underwent cybernetic enhancement surgery to have the accelerometers implanted in their fingertips, but he didn't bother. To the controller, any technology would eventually be rendered obsolete.

Sensors filled the expanded landscape with layers upon layers of data, each layer gathered from a different lens. The controller twisted his wrist and cycled through the lens' till a soldier's image burned red-hot beneath a canopy of cool foliage. He grabbed the shimmering light with his gloved hands and pulled his hands apart until the image expanded enough to outline a distinctly human figure. Tapping the moving form, a real-time streaming connection was established and authenticated; the soldier's suit passing data to a feed directly to his base of operations. He grasped the thread of data and pulled it to its own dedicated holopad. From the flow of information, live biometric stats gathered from the suit expanded to fill its new home.

Turning back to the leftmost holo, the man expanded and assessed the immediate environment, twisting his arms this way and that, peeling back layers of sensor data from every possible angle. The primary scans revealed no foreign presences or notable anomalies.

"Green lights across the board. Sensors online. Stealth engaged. Shields at full capacity. Weapons ready. All suit functions tested and transmitting. Mission ready."

The controller turned back to the planet model and twisted it with his fingers, cycling with the sensor data. Clouds covered most of its atmosphere. Cold, overcast, and heavy liquid precipitation.

"So," The man said, adjusting the light-weight headset in his ear, "how's the weather down there?"

"Really?" The voice on the other end replied, sounding annoyed. "Are you _trying_ to rub it in?"

The controller grinned. "Just checking. I want to make sure the Normandy's scanners are working properly."

"To think I was almost impressed with the way you were handling this." Shepard said, with a sigh. "I'm going to assume you referred to the Normandy as 'Raptor'?"

"Fitting isn't it?" The Wanderer asserted, tweaking the spectrum of the inlay image. "The term "raptor" is derived from the Latin word _rapere_ meaning to seize or take by force. Quick and silent, this bird of prey possesses keen vision that allows them to detect prey during flight and strike with it's powerful talons and beak. Does the Normandy not fulfil all of these attributes?"

As much as Shepard wanted to drown out his entirely time-inappropriate observations, he was spot on.

"Yes," Shepard admitted, "yes she does. Now that you mention it, she does look the part too."

"She?"

"The Normandy _is _my ship, remember? And in case you forgot, when dealing with birds of prey: the females are more often larger than the males."

The Wanderer nodded in agreement on the Normandy. "Correct on all counts, Shepard. Just curious is all."

"You're always curious. It can be dangerous if you're not careful. It killed the cat, you know."

"Then you must also know that a cat has nine lives. Maybe that's why I'm still alive."

A blip appeared in the Wanderer's monitor, interrupting their banter. EDI had ran a scan of the complex to place an entrance and came up with a hit.

"EDI found an entrance to the complex on the side closest to you. One-hundred meters north-east your position. Setting up a way-point now. Do you see it on your HUD?"

Nearing the edge of the dense brush, a marker popped into existence in her helmet, hovering in place. "Crystal clear."

"Good. Starting now I'll keep comm chatter to a minimum. You'll be entering the clearing soon."

The Wanderer muted his mic and watched one of the holo's track Shepard's movement. Stepping out into the clearing, she tactically looked around and slowly made her way to the entrance. He noticed something.

Freezing a frame and zooming in, he could see that on her back was the mass effect hammer. Why in the world did she bring that weapon? She rarely used it because the immense splash damage made it an extremely dangerous weapon to use in enclosed spaces. Was it because there were batarians involved?

He wanted to ask why, but decided against it. Her conversation had clearly stated that there was a time and place for everything.

He intensified his watch.

.

The interior of the complex was utter ruin. Her combat boots crunched over cracked rock and broken tiles wherever she stepped. Leaks of all manners stemmed from old and rusted pipes that extended themselves on every wall. Small lights flickered and barely held onto power. Massive gaping holes in the floor resulted when the damaged sandwich of metal and stone gave in to the pull of gravity and collapsed on one another. If she didn't know better, she would have thought this place had been abandoned a hundred years ago. Maybe that was the plan - Make it look uninhabited.

In front of her loomed one such hole. She could see that a metal grating could be extended from under the floor, bridging the gap. She spotted a passage way that led below.

"One heat signature detected within twenty meters one level below you." Notified the Wanderer. "It's alone, so I'm predicting it's an animal that has taken up residence here. A batarian would not live in this hole alone."

When she rounded the corner, a beast lunged toward her. Three shots from her pistol fixed that problem.

"Varren." Declared Shepard, but they were well-fed, not like the malnourished scavengers she encountered on the prothean ruins on Feros. This was someones pet.

Peering over the broken edge to the next floor below, she discovered it's bountiful food: Dark, pooled blood and half-chewed human corpses. Luckily, none proved to have any semblance to the Doctor. Still, the sight was gruesome. _Batarians..._ Her blood ran hot.

"The batarians must send their prisoners down here to die. I have to find Doctor Kenson before she ends up as food."

Shepard hurriedly found the switch to the bridge and activated it.

.

Much to his delight, Shepard moved out from the sub-terran layer to somewhere higher in the building away from the dense rock. His power of sight had increased seven-fold.

The Normandy had secured enough data to generate a three-dimensional layout of the structure that extended above the surface. He placed one hand on the surface of the holo pad and raised it, popping out the buildings floors into the air. He twisted the structure, bringing one particular floor closer.

"Multiple batarian contacts in the building, all on the floors above you... And from the way they're moving, two more varren on your floor. The infrastructure is also shot on this level. Be careful, I can see run-away gas emissions and uncontrolled power outputs. You may need to close a few valves and cut a few relays to traverse safely."

"This place is run down... even for a prison." was her response, followed the sound of her gun discharging into another hungry varren.

The Wanderer tapped the buildings critical systems and traced the paths of the discharging power. The lines were so run down and uninsulated that he could trace their path around the building. This sort of pattern she was encountering suggested this was planned. He guessed the key points of the breakdowns existed to deter or maim someone who wanted to gain further access. When he watched her approach their first locked door, he observed that the way was obstructed by broken discharging beams of power.

"Do you hear that?" she asked him suddenly, through the connection.

He adjusted the controls of the suits feed from his console to amplify the audio signal. Voices could be heard.

"_Get the human into questioning._" said a voice that was distinctly batarian.

"_Get your hands off me!_", followed immediately. Sounded human, female. It was the doctor's.

"Sounds like Kenson is still alive. Inpatient but cautious, she picked up a strip of metal grating from the floor and passed it through the discharging power lines to test how serious it was. It glowed red-hot and melted in her hands. Her suit would not fare much better.

"Shit." she blurted. "I gotta get a move on and don't have much time. What's the shortest way?"

"Not through those lines." The Wanderer remarked. "You'll need to find a way around or find a relay to cut. There's a passage behind you that leads around and up. I'll have it marked. It's your best bet."

He traced a line around the corridors and eventually reached a door on the level above that led to an outer courtyard. The systems on that level were running cleanly; possessing a heated air exchange system, stable power, and multiple contacts; He found the entrance to the actual prison. While he sent the updated way-point to Shepard's suit, an alert on her suits temperature gauge blinked amber on his holopad. Concerned, he opened the channel again.

"Your suit just registered a jump in temperature. Please tell you didn't do what I thought you did."

"I'm not that stupid. Blasted valve started spewing burning gas everywhere when I switched the line..." she fumed. "But nothing I can't handle. I take it you found another entrance to the prison?"

"Yes. Follow the way-point I just set up. It's a bit of a ways off but its the only way I can find through."

"Anything is better than those lasers." she replied, heading into the dark corridor.

.

After turning corner after corner, she made her way deeper into the maze. Every wall looked the same, and every corner revealed another just like it. The distance-remaining gauge on her route was the only thing that proved she wasn't going around in circles.

"Does this remind you of anything?" she asked him, breaking the radio silence.

"Yes," he answered her, "The Shadow Broker's base. Is that what you were referring to?"

"Yes," she said, as she ran along the broken floor. "I was thinking about it after we got back to the ship. The entire situation played an uncanny parallel to the Greek myth of Theseus and the Minotaur."

Far, far above her, orbiting the planet, the Wanderer's eyebrow shot farther up still. He did not expect to hear those words from the hardened soldier who was now barrelling through a secret prison to rescue a doctor in captivity.

"Theseus and the Minotaur?" he repeated to himself, recalling the ancient human Greek myth. Although quite intricate and open to all sorts of interpretations, the simplest translation of the story told of the Minotaur: A half-man, half-bull who was conceived when Queen Pasiphae slept with a bull sent by one of the gods. King Minos was embarrassed, but did not want to kill the Minotaur, so he hid the monster in a Labyrinth constructed by a legendary craftsman by the name of Daedalus. According to the myth, Minos was imprisoning his enemies in the Labyrinth so that the Minotaur could eat them. The labyrinth was such a complicated construction that no one could ever find the way out alive.

Now, whether because of the threat of a losing war to Crete or perhaps another event that involved the death of King Minos' son Androgeus – Aegeus, the king of Athens, was ordered to send seven men and women every certain number of years to the Minotaur in retribution or tribute. Eventually, Theseus** -** son of Aegeus, decided to be one of the seven young men that would go to Crete, in order to kill the Minotaur and end the human sacrifices to the monster. Theseus announced to King Minos that he was going to kill the Monster, but Minos knew that even if he did manage to kill the Minotaur, Theseus would never be able to exit the Labyrinth.

Theseus met Princess Ariadne, daughter of King Minos, who fell madly in love with him and decided to help Theseus. She gave him a thread and told him to unravel it as he would penetrate deeper and deeper into the Labyrinth, so that he knows the way out when he kills the monster. Theseus followed her suggestion and entered the labyrinth with the thread. Theseus managed to kill the Minotaur and save the Athenians, and with Ariadne's thread - managed to retrace his way out.

That was the myth in a nutshell, although the very natures of myths leave them as a narrative, stretching from a traditional story to allegory. They sometimes operated on numerous symbols and archetypes, and one could twist the story to fit a wide arrangement of scenarios. If he thought about it though, it really did make sense. The first Shadow Broker could be considered as King Minos - upbringing the monster of the story, both sparing its life and eventually attempting to lock it away forever. The 'Minotaur' was undoubtedly the yahg – both physically and metaphorically - who hid in its information network, residing deep within the bowels of his ship. The ship was the labyrinth, with its twisted hallways and dark corners, at the center of which was the monster. Captives who walked into his 'office', didn't come back out.

Shepard would then be Theseus, the brave and strong hero of the story. He could apply as well. Liara was Princess Ariadne. She led their passage in – and back out again.

"You're absolutely right!" he finally exclaimed with zest.

"You sound unnaturally surprised."

The Wanderer shook his head. "You're full of surprises, Shepard."

.

"Voices again." Shepard noticed, "Listen."

"_They wanted to slam an asteroid into the mass relay._" one said.

"_Can they even do that?_" another questioned.

"_What difference does it make? We caught 'em._"

Both sounded batarian.

From his screen, he saw Shepard creep out of the building and into the courtyard. She was within a dozen feet of a pair of batarians.

"_They've still got her down in the prison._"

"_I'd just kill her, Interrogating a human's a waste of time_."

Too busy to catch up on the freshest batarian gossip, Shepard slipped between the barriers, cut a relay and disappeared into the pre-fab building at the center of the court yard. She slicked around the passages, silent and hidden, appearing on the other side. Climbing over a container, she found the next door and continued her search. More voices. She paused.

"_No way it would have worked. Relays can't be damaged, much less destroyed._"

"_Those humans will do anything to destroy us, I swear._"

He glanced to the bio-stats. At the last comment, Shepard's pulse and rate of breath rose.

"_We have to make this one an example to the others. We can't respond kindly to terrorists._"

Her heart pounded loudly on his console, her form remaining still on his monitor. Oh no.

He did a scan. The room she passed was occupied by two batarians who were occupying themselves with looking out from the window that spanned one of the walls while they spoke. A very easy kill.

He saw in his mind's eye - her hand reaching for the hammer. "Don't." he whispered.

To his relief, her form move right past.

"Don't what?"she replied, sounding rough.

He sighed. "Don't stop moving."

_._

_ "____There's a shuttle incoming. Clear the hangar bay.__" _yelled the loudspeaker.

On one side of a crate, a batarian moved past. On the other, Shepard paused.

"What they're saying," she asked the Wanderer as she waited, "about the relay: Can you actually destroy one? I thought those things were indestructible, they shrug off supernovae."

"They are not." he informed her. "With a large enough impact... say an asteroid with enough mass, the energy and eezo contained within will go critical. The ensuring explosion will wipe out an entire system."

"An entire _system_? Are you serious? Why hasn't someone used it as a weapon yet?"

He laughed joylessly. "Not yet in this cycle, it hasn't. Believe me, it is not something you want to gamble on. Mass relays are the only means of long distance space travel and thus too vital to risk. Even with the Prothean schematics, the resources required to replicate one are immense."

Shepard waited till the batarian passed and she continued down toward the loading docks.

"_I heard an artifact was found in that asteroid belt. Think the humans got it?_"

"_If they did, they'd have swarmed it and put flags all over it._"

When she tried for the door in her way it was, of course, locked.

"Which way now?"

The Wanderer dissected the building. Passing his hand through horizontally, he cut through the schematics and revealed a cross section of the building. EDI's processing power really came in handy.

He saw a way but shook his head and looked for another. There was none.

"You're not going to like this." he said. "Down."

"Down?" she repeated.

"Down. You've played the crane game before, right?"

"The crane game?" Confused, she looked around. "The game where you get a prize..." Shepard looked across at the dock. Items were stacked upon one another, the way point disappearing into the floor under a stack of containers.

"Yep, that one." he said, looking through her suits visual feed. "High-stakes version."

.

"I found a security log." Shepard said, relaying back a recorded log she recovered from a desk. "You listening?"

"Go ahead."

She played the message. "_Our comm buoy intercepts paid off. We picked up a message to the Alliance coming from somewhere in the asteroid belt. __We listened to the feed until we discovered an operation run by a human named Kenson – smuggling engine parts and guidance systems into the system from Omega. We intercepted Kenson's vessel and took her and her people into custody. Interrogation had produced nothing but frenzied rambling so far."_

"Is there anything else?" the Wanderer asked.

"No." She gave it a look over. "It stops there. I'll continue to keep an eyes out, but the priority is the doctor. She'll be able to tell us what's going on."

"_This one's apparently the mastermind._"

"_If she doesn't talk, kill her._"

He hurriedly spoke to distract her from the two lone batarians that stood alone in the passing room.

"You're close, Shepard. Last room at the end of the hall."

"Good." She passed.

When she entered the long-sought after room, she was greeted with the sight of Doctor Amada Kenson being held in a prison restraint, a suited batarian powering up an interrogation device and lining it up with the doctors head. Swift justice would be the order of the day.

She tapped the batarian's shoulder.

"Huh?"

When he turned around to face her, her fist buried itself so far into his face it may have hit grey matter. The body crashed to the floor.

Bewildered, the doctor cried out,"Who are you? What are you doing?"

Commander Jane Shepard stepped forward into the light.

"Doctor Kenson? I'm Commander Shepard. I'm here to get you out."


	51. Chapter 51 : Arrival III

The Wanderer rubbed his aching upper arm, a large three-pronged bruise now spreading over where Grunt had held him. The sides of his ribs also ached, and he reflected to take more care when engaging Grunt. The krogan's strength was nothing to underestimate. Were they not under Shepard's responsibility and willing to battle until submission, there would have been without a doubt broken bones and internal hemorrhaging.

A model of the prison floated in front of him, a collection of cell blocks stacked on top of one another and arranged all around like it's own proper city. The glowing wire mesh models from where he worked cast nearly no light in the dark room that he currently sat, leaving the lines of light blazing like lasers in a vacuum. When preforming this sort of work he preferred to work in the dark. His eyes saw the lines of data with perfect clarity, no distractions. In one room on the model, one very specific room, he watched Shepard's marker encountered two signatures. One of them - identified as a batarian - fell to the floor unconscious. The other signature - belonging to Doctor Amanda Kenson - did not move. She was most likely restrained at the moment.

While waiting for Shepard's confirmation of the doctors status, a pulsating red circle appeared where the doctors hold chamber was located. It then spread through corridor after corridor like a virus, till the entire building was infected with the pulsating red dots. The nature of the symbols unknown to him, he tapped out a few commands to discover the purpose of the signal. It was the alarm. When the doctor freed herself, the room had automatically alerted to the rest of the prison that there was an escaped convict on the loose. It was foolish to hope they could have escaped without incident.

"Status of contact?" he sent through the wire.

"Still alive and kicking, if that's what you're asking." reported Shepard.

"Good. We have a problem." he informed, "Every alarm in the building just got set off when Kenson broke the restraint."

"Damn," Shepard, joked nervously, "And here I thought we were going to walk right out the front door." She was well aware what her course of action would be. Her marker on his screen inched closer to the doorway.

"How long do we have till they converge on our position?", she asked him, her hands riveted on the weapon in their grasp, the unnatural quivering of her arms ready to blast the next batarian who stepped into the corridor.

"Ten seconds or so. I traced a way back to the docks, but you can't go back the way you came. Go down and out through the cell blocks. There is a security console you can override along the way."

"Understood."she sputtered. He heard a long breath.

"And Shepard?"

"Yes?"

The Wanderer saw the number of batarians she would need to fight through. He also saw what the batarians represented to her, recalling the events at Mindoir. She had killed plenty of batarians in the past but always under the cover of a mercenary uniform that stood in her way. This break-out was a direct and aggressive stab right into the heart of the matter. And although she always put up an excellent front, the toxic pull of retribution still tugged within her - the flame of vengeance still fresh. He did not, could not judge her, nor fix the past. Regardless of her pain, the Reapers still held orders of magnitude over all else. He recalled his own life and lessons and said the only words he could hope for:

"Please don't loose yourself."

There was a pause at the end as his unexpected words caught her off guard. "I... I won't. They won't get me." She said, words almost a whisper. "They won't catch me. Not like the others." She closed the channel.

The Wanderer shut his eyes and sat quietly as waited for the carnage to begin. He would wait till the flame extinguished its fuel.

On the bio-stat screen, Shepard's heartbeat pounded.

.

"_The ringleader escaped! Get your asses out there and stop them!_" yelled the approaching batarian.

Two human females waited in the doorway of the chamber, one them a doctor, the other a soldier. Although both desired to escape this place, both were driven by vastly different motives.

The soldier - who currently possessed a calm that threatened to escalate to frenzy, took an ammo upgrade from her back pocket, and with a wavering hand, applied it to all her weapons. This particular upgrade was popular among pirates, criminals, and mercenaries - whose rounds were coated with a highly toxic compound. These rounds were chemical rounds, Commander Shepard reflected, and she had never used them... Not until today. When she was sixteen, she had been introduced to the concept by force, her parents both liquified before her eyes when they were shot by batarian slavers. Her face presently held composure - She did not know how much longer it would last.

Heart pumping in her ears with a mixture of adrenaline and stark fear injected in her veins, she darted around the corner, pressed the barrel of her pistol against the unsuspecting batarians head and watched the glowing round dissolve the dark flesh and done, a gaping cavity remain where his skull should have been. While she had always imagined she would feel _something_, she did not. When the next batarian fell prey to her poison, the feeling didn't change. She felt nothing, her only change being an increase of rage that was being built up from the frustration of stagnation. When the roars of her shotgun reduced entire bodies to green liquid, she looked on without a blink. When she heard the screams of the maimed, the toxicity of the rounds inflicting horrible burning wounds, she could neither find pleasure nor pity in the sound. The feeling of righteous vengeance could not overcome the fact that her actions were horrific, needless, and totally against her morals. When she pulled out the mass effect hammer out of madness and brought it down upon the faces of the batarians ruthlessly, she saw her own horrified face staring back at her as they were ripped apart.

Sometime after unmercifully laying waste to a room of batarians and breaking into the hangar, she saw the universe come full circle, her actions instilling and reinforcing the cycle of violence and fear between their two races, perpetuating the tensions further. When both Kenson and herself escaped by way of stolen shuttle, the Wanderer's words: 'Please don't loose yourself.', took root, and she recalled the sad, hopeful tone of his voice. He had urged her not to exact her vengeance - but did not stop her, as he had known that she would have never known the feeling without first preforming the action. She stared out of the window of the shuttle, and realized that she had lost herself, putting herself and the doctor at unnecessary risk for her personal vendetta. Her body in recovery mode from the infusion of adrenaline, she opened the channel with a weakened and shaky hand.

"You didn't stop me." she affirmed.

"No, I did not." he responded.

"Why?"

"To ask you this question: How do you feel?"

"Not what I thought I would."

"Then," he inquired, "Was I wrong?"

"No. " She shook her head, suppressing the feeling of disgust of her own actions."No, you weren't."

He nodded to himself on the Normandy. Shepard had taken a sip of the bitter drink and realized it wasn't the sweet nectar she had always imagined it would be. Better to get a taste of the acerbic liquid in the shining chalice and push it away, then to keep drinking and drown in it's intoxication.

"Status of contact?" He asked, breaking the thread of the conversation.

"Safe and sound. Time to get some answers." she said, not missing a beat. Shepard knocked on the shuttle door to draw the attention of the doctor who was fiddling with the pilot controls.

Shepard look up to see doctor Amanda Kenson walk out of the pilots cabin. This was the first time she had gotten a good look of the doctor despite their combined efforts to escape the prison. A middle-aged grey-haired women who could still hold her own, Dr. Amanda Kenson was a human scientist from the University of Arcturus who became notable when she and her team claimed to have discovered that the construction of the mass relays pre-dated the existence of the Protheans.

"Engaging autopilot." Kenson reported, "We should be well out of range before they get their security measures unscrambled."

"Do you think they'll come after you?" Shepard asked.

"I'm not taking any chances. Batarians don't take kindly to humans who plan to destroy their mass relays."

"So the charges against you _are_ true." Shepard affirmed.

"Well. To be fair, that's about half the story." Kenson explained, "My people and I were here investigating rumours of Reaper technology out in the fringes of this system."

"I guess you found something."

"We found proof that the Reapers will be arriving in this system. When they get here, they'll use its mass relay to travel throughout the galaxy. We call it the 'Alpha Relay'. From here, the Reapers can invade anywhere in the galaxy."

"So you decided to destroy it." Shepard said, connecting the dots.

"Exactly. Doing that would stop the Reaper' invasion. Even at FTL speeds, it's be months or years before they got to the next relay."

It would buy them time, if anything. Shepard looked out of the main shuttle window to the mass relay that spun perpetually in the distance, its eerie blue light casting an illumination on the interior of the shuttle.

"We came up with what we just called 'The Project'" said the doctor, continuing. "A plan to launch a nearby asteroid into the relay and destroy it before the Reapers could arrive. Of course, the resulting explosion would probably wipe out the system."

Shepard's eyebrows narrowed. She recalled her earlier exchange with the Wanderer. "I've always heard that mass relays are indestructible."

"I've heard that, too. But I think it's more that nobody's willing to find out what happens when one is destroyed. And, well... we planned to slam a small planet into the thing at very high speed. By our calculations, that's more than enough."

"Is the project still operational?"

"I.." the doctor said, thinking to herself, "I imagine it is. We were one button-press away from launch when the batarians arrested me."

"And how did you plan to launch an asteroid into a mass relay?"

"Moving an asteroid just requires thrust and guidance, which are readily available in Omega's salvage yards. Get the right amount of power and a good VI to drive it, and you can pretty much just point and shoot."

"Why do you think destroying a mass relay would destroy the entire system?"

"Mass relays are the most powerful mass-effect engines in the known galaxy. The energy released from a relay's destruction would probably resemble a supernova. This is a remote system, but just over three hundred thousand batarians live on the colony where they held us. The explosion would undoubtedly kill them all."

The words froze Shepard on her spot. She wrestled internally. "I still don't see how you learned about this supposed invasion." she questioned, wanting to be entirely aware of all facts in this situation.

"The evidence came from what we call Object Rho, a Reaper artifact we discovered among the asteroids near the relay itself. When we get back to Arcturus Station, I'll explain everything and provide copies of all our notes on the artifact. "

Shepard nodded. "One question, how exactly does a Reaper artifact give you proof of an impending invasion?"

"It showed me visions of the Reaper' arrival... much like your Prothean beacon, I imagine. The Reapers are coming, Commander. That much I know for certain."

Close proximity to anything Reaper usually ended in losing your mind, Shepard thought to herself. "If you're working near a Reaper artifact, how have you avoided indoctrination?"

"We've been very careful. We know what we're dealing with."

"_She has no idea what she__'__s dealing with._" came the Wanderer's words through her ear. She agreed with him internally.

Kenson saw Shepard's unconvinced look. "You're not speaking to a child, Shepard. I saw what Soverign did at the Citadel. Trust me – I know what's at stake."

"How did this even start in the first place? What is a Reaper artifact doing in an asteroid?"

"We don't know, or ever what it's purpose is. Some things are just too old or large to comprehend. Even a reaper thousands of years dead contains power. Their artifacts are worthy of study, regardless of their purpose."

Shepard leaned forward in thought and shook her head. "The stakes are too high. If you were willing to destroy a whole system over this, I want to see your proof."

"I guess I can't argue with that. Give me a moment."

The doctor tried her comm. "Kenson to Project Base." she said out loud.

"_Good to hear your voice, Doctor. You coming home?"_

"Affirmative. And I've got Commander Shepard with me."

"_Shepard? Really?"_

"Tidy up the lab. The Commander needs to confirm the artifact."

"_Right. I'll get everything set up for your arrival. Project Base out."_

"All set." She reported. "Just sit back and relax. We'll be there in no time."


	52. Chapter 52 : Arrival IV

_The night was dark and full of terrors._

"_Fear."_

_The captain growled as he boldly paced up and down the line, each step produced a quickening heartbeat and perspiration from the men and women who stood against the cold rain and black sky that beat upon them mercilessly. _

_These months had been hell, he thought. He had not slept in weeks. His skin had turned to mush then to rock. The captain was wearing the soldiers down with a speed unlike torture. This was slow, brutal work. Their rational minds were ground down. Even the toughest were scared._

"_Fear.", the Captain said again, stronger this time. His voice growled with the primal cries of a wild animal caged. _

_Some were shaking now. From the cold or from the fear, he couldn't tell._

"_In the dark recesses of the mind, a disease known as fear feasts upon the souls of those who cannot overcome its power..."_

_He stopped in mid step, turning his head sharply to an individual who had the misfortune to attract his attention. His sharp golden glance cut the soldiers will down to a stump, rendering the man an invalid._

_The black captain stepped to._

"_Fear." he repeated, "Cultivate it, and it will become stronger. Use it as a weapon, and it will be your greatest ally." _

_Onward he marched._

"_You were all taught to face your fears from a young age, were you not? Taught to look fear in the face... A noble thought."_

_The black captain suddenly vanished into the space around them. Their eyes widened, searching._

"_A useless, empty thought.", said a mocking voice coming from both nowhere and everywhere. They all spun around, trying to defend themselves against an enemy they could not see._

"_Do you know what the strongest fear is?", said the disembodied voice._

_No one dared to answer._

_The voice did."Fear of death?" it asked._

_Suddenly one of the soldiers was slammed against the wet ground. There was blood running with the rain-soaked mud._

"_No." The voice said. "The fear of the unknown.", it whispered behind the shoulder of another. Two shrieks were sounded. Another two were downed._

"_If you survive, you will learn. You will become the shadow. You will become death. I will turn you into the most feared thing that exists; The unknown."_

_A deathly silence. No movement except for the endless downpour from above them._

"_Throw the darkness upon your shoulders, and you will become the thing men fear most." _

_The last thing he saw before losing consciousness were yellow eyes appearing from the darkness of the night. _

_God help me, he thought. _

_It was over in an instant._

The Wanderer snapped his eyes open.

A model of a shuttle floated weightlessly in front of him, slowing as it approached a large asteroid. Realizing he had just slipped into a memory, he scrambled at the controls, getting his bearings. Hurriedly checking the current time and logs of his last actions at the console, he breathed a sigh of relief when he discovered that he had only drifted off for a few minutes. So much for not lost losing oneself, he thought. He was a hypocrite for expecting anything from Shepard.

"Here we are." he heard a voice through Shepard's comm announce. "Welcome to Project Base."

The Wanderer looked over the Normandy's position. The base lay mostly obstructed by the rock of the asteroid, so the connection wasn't going to be the strongest from their present position. EDI crunched some data and got the optimal distance and coordinates for their over-watch. Joker moved the ship silently into position.

"What's this?" He heard Shepard ask, her helmet looking up.

"That's our countdown to Arrival." The doctor answered her. "When it gets to zero.. the Reapers will have come."

The Wanderer took a still from her suits feed by dragging three fingers from the live video to a new screen. Eight digits counted down. _Five minutes to midnight._

"Just over two days and counting. Puts things in perspective, doesn't it?" the doctor said, tilting her head on his screen.

Shepard was not convinced. "How do you know that's an accurate countdown?"

"It is." assured the doctor, "The artifact has been giving off pulses at definite intervals since we found it. The intervals have been decreasing at a steady rate. The artifact is reacting to the Reaper's proximity. In just over forty eight hours, the pulses will become constant, and the Reapers will be here."

"You're saying the Reaper could be at Earth in two days?! There's no time to waste."

"Then let's show you that proof" Kenson directed, motioning to the doorway. "That door exists the hangar. The artifact is in our central lab area."

He watched the two of them enter the base. He began running scans.

.

Shepard followed the doctor through the walls of the pre-fab base. "So, what would it take to get the Project back up and running?"

Kenson did not stop to talk. "Everything was in place when we were arrested. It wasn't a question of 'could we' but 'should we'."

The hairs on Shepard's neck stood on end, at once realizing that everything was not as it seemed. The two of them passed dozens of guards and personnel, all persons completely oblivious to the fact that the doctor was alive and back. They got no side glance, no eye contact, no interaction whatsoever.

"What alternative do we have?" Shepard asked, eyes darting around. Not a single person had yet to acknowledge their presence.

"The Reapers will reach this system regardless." The doctor explained, unaware. "But the Alpha Relay is their shortcut to the rest of the galaxy. If you want to keep the Reapers at bay, this relay must be destroyed."

"We have to get the Project running again. It's probably the only chance we have."

The two of them stood in front of the locked door of the lab. "One sec, let me get the door." said the doctor apologetically, tapping an access code onto her omni-tool.

The doors slid open.

.

On the Wanderer's holo, the complete scan of the base came online. Without even magnifying the image or delving deeper into the model, he saw something that made his eyes go wide. In the bowels of the base a massive structure sat, blazing white on the element zero scanners, pulsing with waves of energy. EDI's hologram sprung to life in the same time it took his brain to register what he was looking at.

"I have recognized the artifact's energy signature." the AI said, "It is of Reaper origin."

Dr. Amanda Kenson's voice in the darkness of his room continued speaking. "Commander Shepard, I give you Object Rho."

The Wanderer's eyes zoomed to the feed. Something he had not seen in thousands of years, something from his nightmares, sat in front of Shepard.

"You have the Reaper artifact just sitting here... out in the open?!", Shepard's voice protested.

The doctor did not respond. Instead, she had her back turned, arms crossed in front of her. "When we found it, it showed me a vision of the Reapers' arrival." she said, oblivious to the Commanders outburst.

She shook her head. "Kenson, this is _not_ good."

"Give it a moment, Shepard. It'll give you the proof you need."

When he sputtered into the microphone to tell Shepard not to step one foot closer to the cursed artifact, a blue swirling blast of energy overcame her, bringing the helmets feed to the floor. An alert on his console blinked: her brain's EEG scan showed signs of abnormal brain waves. Such patterns existed when organic minds interfaced with the prothean beacons and saw the vision of their destruction.

When Shepard looked back up toward the doctor, she looked down the barrel of a pistol.

"I can't let you start the Project, Shepard. I can't let you stop the arrival."

_The doctor had already been i__ndoctrinat__ed, _he realized with the proximity suddenly restored the Reapers hold on the doctors mind? Or had this entire mission been a trap set specifically for Shepard from the start? He didn't have the time to think about it. Every life form on his scanners re-animated at precisely the same moment and rushed toward the lab as if under a hive mind influence.

"GET UP SHEPARD."

The human female staggered to her feet, knocking the doctors weapon out of her hand. By the time her disoriented head had stilled, the doctor had escaped. Guards came streaming in through the doorways.

He twisted the building's schematics. Doorways and exit points lit up. Bodies glowed hot and merged together, flowing like a river. She was trapped in a square room with a reaper artifact and an army.

Rounds had already begun flying. His mind scrambled into high-gear. The jokes and banter were gone. The mission just went FUBAR.

"Status?" he said, surprising himself with a voice that sounded much calmer than he thought he could muster.

"Shitty.", came her reply. Had it not have been for a certain-death scenario, he would have almost cracked a smile. He found his mouth listing out tactical sit-reps and anticipated enemy plans from it's own accord. That was one of his secrets of his efficiency in combat. He had lived so long and engaged in so many confrontations that he knew what someone was going to do before they did it themselves.

"Entrance to your three-o'clock just opened. Pyro's circling to the left to outflank you. The soldier who is coming out of the door will join with the rest of the group around the other way."

He watched her lay down cover fire for the main crowd, then swing around and clap the pyro through the skull. The main crowd running the corner, they were greeted by two grenades placed just seconds earlier.

"Two contacts on your six. Lightly armed, they will cower behind the barrier's. Suggest direct action."

Shepard's shotgun was waiting for them as the two hunkered down to protect their heads. The heat from her blasts singed the barriers.

While the firefight raged on, the alien artifact that was Object Rho swirled within itself, its black and blue storm of power chaotically mixing. _"__Do not resist." _said an un-earthly hum. _"Give yourself over and be spared." _

"Go fuck yourself." Shepard muttered between shots.

The object must had taken offence to Shepard's words, for at that moment a pulse of dark energy spread outward from the artifact, debilitating her. She doubled over, vitals out of whack, but she held.

The arrangement of bodies on his model converged."Get yourself to the other end of the room, Shepard. You'll get cornered."

She did one better. Biotically charging the full length of the room in a single bound, she mashed an engineers through the gut while avoiding the choke point.

The doctors voice rang out. "We don't want to hurt you, Commander. Lay down your weapons!"

_Like hell she will, _he thought.

"Like hell I will." he heard Shepard mutter through the mic.

"_Your galaxy is in sight. Your final days are at hand._" rumbled the artifact. Another pulse discharged from the Reaper artifact, the marker representing the alien object glowing brighter on his screen with each release. From the pulse, Shepard took another bad hit. His screen had lit up with two red alerts: Two shots had breached her shields, and ammo was also almost nil. Medi-gel was automatically administered to stop the bleeding, but there was nothing to make heat-sinks spontaneously materialize.

He switched views. He saw more guards... and a heavy mech. The chances of escape were so low that even getting hit by lightning seemed more likely. _Shit._

"_Struggle if you wish. Your mind will be mine._"

The next pulse was larger this time as it reached the far fringes of the room, barely beyond where Shepard was crouching down, reloading with whatever sinks she had left. A near constant stream of fire peppered the side of the obstacle. Her heart beat sounded loudly and quickly in the otherwise quiet of his room on the Normandy. Physical capabilities were getting stretched to the max.

"Permission to lose myself?", Shepard panted in between breaths.

"You _are_ the Commander, remember?" he retorted.

"Heh. That's right." she managed between gasps. "Time to raise a little hell. Where's the mech?"

"Your north-west." he relayed. "Thirty-two meters away and closing. Three soldiers left in a line over on the other side of the artifact."

Shepard took a few breaths but did not budge. "What did you say to me before on Aratoht?" she asked him. "Just before I almost jumped those two lone batarians?"

His minds-eye had been correct. "Never stop moving." he answered her.

"Your instructor told you that?"

The enemy on his screen was moving closer while she engaged him in conversation. "Yes. How did you know?"

"Because." She said, readying herself. "Mine told me the same thing."

A rocket exploded against the barrier. It would be time before the mech reloaded. Now was the opportune time to move. Shepard sprinted out from the cover, spraying the area with her rifle, dropping shields. She made her way around the outer perimeter of the room where protection was the most plentiful. One of the soldiers got hit in the throat, silencing him permanently. The other two made the mistake of hiding behind the same barrier. Her last flash-bang exploded between them, both of them down for the next few seconds.

Shepard dropped her empty rifle, grabbed her shotgun and charged half of the way between herself and the mech, evading the next airbourne rocket. She fired the last four inferno rounds of her shotgun into the armor of the mech, the heat peeling back the plating and exposing the delicate circuity beneath. The woman on fire dropped her spent shotgun, taking hold of the hammer that rested on her back, and swung the remaining biotic charges of the weapon into the mechs exposed frame. Blue blossoms of element zero energy tore the limbs apart, the mech falling to the floor in a pile of metal and plastic. She hoisted the hammer once more, breaking the back of the soldier that was rising. The element zero core of the hammer also spent, she flipped it's head over, and bashed the last soldier with it's serrated blade. Three savage whacks ripped the combat suit and flesh beneath into ribbons. She dropped the hammer when the ground turned red and the soldier stopped moving. She stood alone among the wreckage. She had done it.

The artifact glowed with an intensity not witnessed before during the battle. "_You shall be the first to witness our arrival."_ it commanded.

A massive blast of energy tore through the room, enveloping the entire space in rampant dark energy. Shepard disappeared from his screen as her connection went offline. The room disappeared from view as the flux of energies rendered any sensors useless.

.

The Wanderer was alone, sitting in a communications post in the dark of his room.

Lub Dub... Lub Dub... Lub Dub... Lub Dub...

He sat alone in the darkness, one hand on a comm, the other resting on the raised console in front of him.

Nothing moved.

Lub Dub... Lub... ... ... ... ...

The sound of the heartbeat abruptly stops and the room fades into silence.

Tension builds. His grip on the comm increases and his breath is held.

The sound does not play through the speakers again.

His heart skipped a beat.

He fumbles with resetting the connection. Nothing changes. The feeling of dread impacts his gut. He contacts the emergency channel.

Static. His eyes shoot open in the darkness.

He secures his suit, dons his helmet, grabs his sword, and bursts out of the doorway.

A steady sound fills his ears again. It is his own heart as it beats loudly within his chest.

He would _not_ be left alone again.


	53. Chapter 53 : Arrival V

She ran.

She ran, and ran, and ran. She ran from the fire, black bars of rusted steel, from the outstretched claws and grasping sharp fingers. Faceless horrors hobbled after her, always one step behind and always almost within reach. The demoniacal cries of the dammed whispered in the distance, a thousand voices muddled together, screaming out with both pain and delight in languages that she could not understand.

She ran away - she ran from. Long shadows nipped at her heels, playing with their prey. Her feet and legs stumbled raw under her, yet her frantic mind willed herself to keep moving forward. She ran from the terrors; the beasts with toothy mouths, empty eyes, and scratching claws. Lest she stop moving, her blood would join that of that which soaked the ground she scrambled over.

She passed the blank and empty stare of Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. Williams did not move, instead gazed at her as she ran past - unwilling to follow. Yelling back at Williams to hurry and move, she watched the horde swallow her friends' body and rip it to pieces in a shower of gore. She screamed. She ran.

She ran from the darkness in the night.

_They won't get me. __They won't catch me. Not like the others._

Then one of _them_ grabbed her. Her wild eyes saw a grotesque arm close around hers; a cold, boney, husk of a hand. Horrified to the edge of insanity, she screamed and lashed out with biotic energy to shred whatever had touched her. As the blue fire ripped flesh, the illumination revealed that the bony hand belonged to an exhausted and sad faced batarian, whose body fell, was trampled on and crushed underfoot. She had realized too late that it was not like the others, and she had gone and doomed it. Despite lacking a body, the disembodied hand remained firmly attached to her arm and did not let go... and she could not pry the lingering, cold, dead fingers from her arm.

Crazy tears running down her face, she screamed a scream of despair in the eternal night. The whispers hissed at her, drawing closer. The darkness darkened and crawled closer to her, slowly blotting out her light. Hope drained from her as quick as the cold wrapped its fingers around her throat. The future seemed futile and inevitable.

"_Don't lose yourself._" said an exasperated, masculine voice.

A familiar running form emerged from the cloak of the inky darkness around her and joined along side her, drifting closer to her light. It's own was dim, nearly to the point of extinguishing, but shone steadily. The dark humanoid form was deeply scarred and bloodied from old wounds that had burst with fresh blood from the efforts to sustain its plight. The shadowy figure thumped upon the ground beside her strongly, muscles nearly bursting and worn-out from their time in continuous motion. The form had been running for untold eons, far longer than she had.

"_Don't stop moving." _it reminded her.

She didn't. Faith sustained, her light kept the encroaching darkness at bay as she continued her relentless escape. There were shapes that she could sense in the mist around her, also engaged in the escape, drawn toward her guiding light. She picked up speed, her steps no longer unsure, her momentum gaining...

Then she tripped.

Her foot caught something lying in the mud, and she lost her balance. She was airborne for a moment, watching slowly as the ground rushed up, the hoard grew closer, and the green eyes of the running form widen with horror as she went down. She hit the ground...And then burst upright, bright lights stinging her eyes, her mind and body still gripped in an imagined terror as she rolled off a table and down to a cold, clean, white floor.

"No glitch. The sedatives aren't working! Security!" yelled something or someone.

Her mind still in the grip of the panicked effects of a nightmare, Shepard lashed out erratically, slamming the two things into the wall and floor, hard. Her mind somehow still in a state of movement, her frantic feet carried her face-first into a barrier, which knocked her back down onto her backside. Shaking her head, she took a breath. That had been a rude awakening. She was unsure what universe she was currently in. She glanced around at her new surroundings.

She was in a medical bay. A human had done the yelling. The two things she attacked were guards. She was evidently still alive and _not_ running for her life. She was still on 'Project: Base', and for some reason she could not fathom - had been captured and patched up by the indoctrinated personnel. All her equipment was gone, so contact was out of the question. She was unsure how much time had passed... quite a bit, she thought, as she observed the cottony mouth feeling she got when sedated. She had little time to waste.

After a quick glance around the bay, she realized that she had been unknowing trapped with a fully functional terminal.

"Step away from the terminal!" yelled the indoctrinated doctor.

"As if." Shepard muttered to herself. It was high-time she had a lucky break. Playing around with the controls, she discovered she had full access and control to the security mechs that were conveniently placed right on the outside of the bay.

"Assuming direct control." she chattered, initializing the boot process for one of the mechs. "Ha! I've always wanted to say that!"

Skills honed by hours playing video games with Legion had payed off. Even with a joke of a pistol to work with, she blew the other mechs to pieces, put the scientist down, and blew the power junction to disable the barrier. She was free.

.

"_Shepard's escaped. All available personnel to the medical wing!_" yelled Dr. Kenson's voice through the bases' loudspeaker. Shepard shook the hair from her eyes as she donned her helmet. Loading heat sinks into her weapon, she watched the timer counting down on the wall in front of her.

"Not much time." she muttered to herself. "I have to get this asteroid moving and get the hell out of here." She checked her comm. It was still blocked. Establishing a connection to the Normandy was of utmost importance. The next few hours would decide the fate of a planet, or more accurately, the galaxy.

Clearing the rooms and making her way across the station, she happened upon data-pads and terminal recordings left behind by the personnel. The reports were troubling and all too-reminiscent with reaper indoctrination symptoms she had encountered in the past. Piece by piece, she put together the full story and time-line of the subjugation of their will.

"_When it's silent, when there's no one else around, I can hear it. Whispers in the back of my mind, and I can't tell what they're saying. I spoke to Doctor Kenson about it, and she seemed to understand. What the hell is going on?"_

"_Kenson's acting strange lately. Like she doesn't care about the Project anymore. And I know I'm not the only one having those dreams. The Reapers are coming, she says. But I'm not sure if I'm hearing fear or hope in her voice."_

The farther she moved into the station, the more disturbing the recordings were. The personnel had begun feeling the effects and had noticed the subtle signs of indoctrination after they shared a close proximity with the artifact. The worst part was, Shepard thought to herself, you really had no idea what it was until it was too late. Little by little, it chipped away at you until there was no stone left. Whispers, dreams, even certain thoughts could all be explained as an array of other things. Eventually the reapers will takes hold and you go along willingly.

She played an excerpt from Kenson's own recording.

"_The longer we're here, the more I'm convinced that the Project must be stopped. We simply don't know enough about what the Reapers want. It's foolish to assume that the Reapers mean doom for the galaxy. Legends say they've come through before, and yet life continues, doesn't it?"_

_M__y God_, she thought to herself time and time again, the indoctrination was so perfect, so subtle, so powerful, that it was able to change an idea within a persons mind; an idea that stood for everything that the person was - and twist it like it was taffy. Stretching way back to Saren and Matriarch Benezia till the present, there was no single person who could hold a candle up to its effects. No matter the state of mental health or strength of will or character, it was always broken down like a rock wall eroded after thousands years of water and wind battering its face.

As she encountered the stations personnel in deadly games of warfare, she saw in their faces the complete devotion as a martyr to their cause, who up until a short while ago, had _believed_ wholeheartedly in the complete opposite. She realized then, that she would never know _if_ or _when_ she would become an indoctrinated slave. And how many people over the years, she thought, had made the same deduction as they slipped down a slope they knew not they fell?

.

"_Welcome to Project Control._" announced the stations VI, monitors starting up. Beyond the viewing windows, the large thrusters of the asteroid were in place and in plain sight.

"I want to activate the project." Shepard commanded.

"_Warning_." Red hazard symbols filled the screens. A simulation of the event was shown on screen, devastating the relay and its system. "_Activating the Project will result in an estimated three hundred and five thousand casualties_.", the VI calculated, displaying the numbers on screen front and center as the toll cranked up higher and higher on screen, showing her just how many lives lay on that side of the scale. "_Do you wish to continue?_"

Without another second wasted, she activated The Project. As the primer spun to life, the thrusters started up and engaged, overcoming the inertia of the asteroid and moving it in an intercept trajectory with the mass relay. The station shuddered and rocked under her, nearly making her lose her balance. The screens blared angry red warnings.

"_Project activation in progress. Warning: Collision with mass relay is imminent. Begin evacuation procedures._"

Without a second thought, she attempted sending a message to planet Aratoht. Although her private comms were blocked, she could send a transmission from the station itself. The relay would need to be destroyed, yes, but the lives on the planet need not be. It was a Batarian colony, populated by harsh but functional people. The infrastructure and living spaces on the planet were all pre-fab and could easily be replaced. The Batarian Hegemony had decreed that all far reaching colonies be equipped with enough shuttles and base-line defence systems in case of an attack. The human race and it's aggressive expansion had been responsible for that change.

"Alert:" she relayed cleanly, "All colonists living in the Bahak system: This is-"

The line cut as the terminal was remotely possessed by another user. Doctor Amanda Kenson's face occupied her screen now. Kenson severed the line to Aratoht.

"Shepard! No!" she yelled, furiously. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You leave me with no choice. If we can't stop this asteroid, it must be destroyed!"

"Tell me where to find Doctor Amanda Kenson." Shepard requested to the VI.

"_Doctor Kenson is travelling to the reactor core module._" it answered.

"An eezo core meltdown should do it," the Doctor continued, obviously loving the sound of her own voice. "Because of you, everyone on this rock will be obliterated!"

_Funny how perspectives can be changed?_

"Not if I get to you first." Shepard said, as her hand slammed into the line disconnect. Hearing the voices of guards entering the room, she hoisted her weapon and did was she did best. Not letting _anything_ stand in her way.

.

When she moved to the adjacent sector, Shepard found herself looking through a reinforced transparent divider that separated her from into the eezo core reactor. Amanda Kenson also stood on the other side of the glass.

"Don't try to stop me, Shepard." She said, tapping out commands on the reactor control unit. "I have to do this."

"I've already activated the Project. We can still escape this rock!" She reasoned to the doctor. But reason seldom matters to those who turn a deaf ear.

"There is no escape." Doctor Kenson lamented. "There's no redemption for what you've done. I will die never have seen the Reaper's blessings. And you will just die."

"Dammit, Kenson!"

Firing at the transparent divide was futile. It had been designed to contain core flareups. She needed to find a way around once again. She rushed down the halls of the station.

.

"Shepard is trapped. Keep her in there!"

Slipping into the next room, Shepard encountered more of the unknowing defectors. The entire situation was messed, she thought, as she placed a target within her sights. Here she was, in the process of blowing a relay to smithereens to halt a surprise invasion. Yet if Kenson and her team had not originally found the artifact and planned all this, they would have never known about how close to their doom they sat - and they would have never had set the Project up in just a way so that Shepard still had a chance at flipping the switch to carry out their original plan. In fact, it seems the batarians inadvertently saved them all. If they would have not captured Kenson, she would have never gotten involved and lead to this point. Something was seriously amiss here, or she was the luckiest woman to ever grace this galaxy.

Shepard ducked, missing an array of sub-machine gun fire that marked the barrier she hunkered down behind. _Engineers_, she deduced, as her quarry set up a turret to keep her down. The gun whirled to life and spat metal toward her. Always such a pain, those things were.

In the middle of trading shots with the turret and the group of pesky engineers across the room that faced the dark of space, the stations loudspeaker blared out that the fail-safe and backup barriers for the life-support system on her sector of the station failed. It was quickly followed by what was interpreted as complete electric system failure as the room then plunged into darkness.

"_Hold onto something._" were the sharp words she heard echo within the space of her helmet. Baffled, Shepard confirmed that the connection to the Normandy was still blocked. Meaning, that this transmission was a _local_ one. Startled by the implications, she wrapped her entire body around the railing and held tightly as quick as she could; Such 'suggestions' stemming from a certain man she knew were usually grossly underestimated.

A dark shape came crashing through the glass wall, out from the black of space and into the darkness of the room. The forceful insertion of the shape from the vacuum to unshielded, pressurized station, shattered the reinforced glass from end-to-end, showering the entire room with sparkling shards and airborne debris as the room's air was sucked out violently. Those caught unprepared were swept off their feet, following the sharp fragments into the void.

If she had not been holding onto the railing for dear life, she would have also.

The shape, whom Shepard believed to have been a passing meteoroid or otherworldly object, passed silently through the room like a shadow of death, throwing red liquid up the walls without a sound. When the air in the room had vanished, so had any other movement. The room's contents now completely depressurized into space and still, Shepard's mag boots held fast as she hoisted her rifle and looked down her sights to see what had become of her adversaries.

It was a grisly scene. She saw none standing, save for severed limbs and torsos that floated around, bouncing off the walls of the room, spewing frozen liquid in zero-g.

"_Sector E-32 announcement: __Shielding systems online. __Critical l__ife-support systems online. __Artificial gravity restored. __Auxiliary electrical systems on standby._" announced the loudspeaker. The lights had still not been restored.

The pressurized barrier of air suddenly activated again; the floating body parts falling to the ground with sickening freeze-dried crunches as artificial gravity once again took hold. The shape was no-where to be seen. As she moved to clear the room she nearly stumbled over silhouetted disembodied legs and feet still anchored to the ground through the magnetic hold of the boots. Like _b__loody tree stumps_, were the only words in her mind, and she swore darkly under her breath.

She moved to the door, passed through, and checked the unlit corridor for hostile contacts. Satisfied with the perceived absence of trigger-happy gunmen, she turned to seal the frosted, crimson splashed portal. Primary electrical system still out, she activated the manual pneumatic-loaded system to shut the door and grappled with the physical locking mechanism to ensure the door stayed closed behind her.

A slamming force pummelled her from the side, hurling her body into the adjacent wall. Caught off guard, she struck out with the butt of her rifle to knock back whatever had attacked her. Her rifle was knocked out of her hands effortlessly, and she answered with a biotically charged fist toward her assailant. Much to her horror, it too was smacked aside, and the dark shape's forearm came up at her neck and pinned her high on the wall. She looked into the Acheronian-like eyes of a black helmet she knew all too well.

"Son of a _bitch_, what are _you_ doing here?!" she gasped against a crushing throat.

The Wanderer did not move, instead kept her suspended in the air struggling, while the dark eyes bore into hers, verifying that this body and mind belonged to the woman he was looking for.

"I should be asking you the same." he answered through the radio, finally dropping her to the ground.

"Nice to see you, too." she said gasping for breath, as she checked the seals around her neck hoping none of them had punctured. "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?" He repeated incredulously, "I saw a reaper artifact wipe your signature from the station. You were surrounded by indoctrinated personnel and no contact has been made since then. Then, the thrusters on the asteroid suddenly sparked to life a few minutes ago, setting the rock into a trajectory with the mass relay. Do you really think me, of all people, would stand by and watch?"

"Wow," she remarked. "You really do care."

The Wanderer grumbled incoherently, grabbed her arm roughly and held it still while re-establishing a connection to her suits feed through their omni-tool's. Within his helmet, Shepard's heartbeat resumed its metronome of beats.

... ... ... Dub... Lub Dub... Lub Dub... Lub Dub...

While the steady sound filled his ears again, he skimmed over the new bio-stats. "You are in remarkably better shape than the last time I saw you, what happened?"

"As bizarre as this sounds," She said, picking up her fallen rifle with scorn, "they patched me up. They were keeping me sedated in the med-bay."

He turned to her with a look of confusion. "Sedated? How did you wake up?"

"Not sure. Luck, if I would guess. I remember having a pretty intense dream and then bam! Rolled right off the table."

From the way he froze and kept silent, she was sure something she had said struck a chord with him.

"A dream?" he repeated. "... We need to leave now, Shepard_._"

"No, not yet. Kenson is attempting to meltdown the eezo core and blow this asteroid to pieces before it reaches the relay. I need to stop her if we want to see a tomorrow."

"Then we stop her."He said, lifting the sword from his back.

"No." She held out a hand to stop him. "I'll take care of Kenson. You need to get off the asteroid, back to the Normandy, and send a message to all colonists living in this system. I will _not_ be signing the death certificates of three hundred and five thousand innocent people."

He lifted his hand in protest, but then an old memory pulled in the back of his mind, breaking his will to defy. He lowered it. "You do realize that if you fail to stop her, you _will_ die."

"Yep." she said, resolutely. "Now go, we don't have much time. Every second lost is another nail in the coffin."

He nodded. Before leaving however, he took the time to rest a hand on her shoulder and crouch down to her height, seeing her eye to eye. "I will see you soon."

"I'm counting on it."

And then he left, pushing aside the pressurized door and rushing to get back to whenever he had come from. The lights above her flickered to life, returning visibility to the corridor.

"_Sector E-32 announcement:" __noised the loudspeakers. __"__Primary electrical system online."_

.

The Wanderer ran through the empty rooms and bare hallways, hurriedly making his way back to the entrance of the base where a shuttle would be waiting for him. Room after room he passed in a blur, wasting no time to return to the ship and warn the colonies. He would have done the same, he thought to himself as he recalled an old memory. He _had_ done the same once, the warrior recalled... but had run out of time. He prayed Shepard did not fall to the same misfortune he once had. The loss was a stain that he had never be able to wash out.

The lone soldier bypassed a certain locked door and slipped inside a large, square room, making every effort to ignore its virulent contents as he headed straight for the door on the opposite side of the room.

Object Rho loomed in the middle of the space, its ethereal influence and power churning within itself. The Wanderer, not willing to risk a single thing, decided to sprint the distance hoping to traverse the entire chamber in three seconds or less. He took off like a bullet, fast-flying over barriers and scurried for the door. Midway through the room - almost one and a half seconds into his dash - the slumbering Object awoke like a sleeping giant and unleashed a massive pulse aggressively toward his fleeting form. The energy blast caught him unawares and the Wanderer locked up, missed his step, slammed into a railing at top speed, and doubling over winded to the floor. He did not notice the almost-silent whisper in the back of his mind, nor did he notice the harrowing words the Object issued after him. Once his feet scrambled and lead him away from the confines of the room, he discovered how afraid and shook up he was, swearing incessantly and shaking slightly as his heart thumped in his chest.

He ran.


	54. Chapter 54 : Arrival VI

******Hey again! Proud to announce the last chapter of the Mass Effect 2 arc! Onto the third! **

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Beyond the shielded transparent barrier, the reactor core flared a bright, glaring white; its luminosity building in its intensity as it overheated and approached dangerous meltdown temperatures.

A shaken but steady hand grasped the raised piston, twisted it and forced it down into its base. Locked into place, coolant began trickling down into the reactor; one of the coolant pumps restored to function by its actions. The core temperature dipped back down and held, though still at unsafe temperatures.

"_Cooling Rod A reinserted. Reactor cooling process has begun." _The VI announced.

"_I need more time! Get in there!_" Shrieked Dr. Kenson over the radio, and an indoctrinated human rushed into the control station.

A burst of fire burped from the end of Commander Shepard's weapon, mowing down the human in stride, flipping the body around. Shepard stepped over the newly deceased with a scowl and trudged toward the second control station.

.

The Wanderer, still shaking off the effects of the Object's influence, stumbled across the Normandy's cargo bay as the stolen shuttle lay open and parked haphazardly behind him. He dragged himself to the elevator, removing his helmet and rubbing his temples to soothe the blasting headache that gripped his skull. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten a headache this bad.

"EDI?" The warrior shouted, "EDI!"

"Yes?", the ever present AI replied, hologram generating. "Do you require medical attention? What is Shepard's status?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Just a headache." he grumbled, shutting his eyes to deaden the throbbing in his head. "Shepard's also fine. Now," he said, trying to think clearly. "The Normandy... The Normandy is capable of high-gain transmission, right? I know it is. Yes." he said, punching the elevator button. "We're going to use it. Re-route power from non-critical systems if you can. This needs to be loud."

He exited the elevator at the CIC in a daze, walked past the few crew members on deck and stopped when he reached Joker's chair.

"Do you two get off on making things go boom?" Joker suggested, completely oblivious to the Wanderer's state, his attention held by a real time screen of the doomed relay from his console. "Glad to know she found someone who admires annihilating explosions as much as her. Personally though," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "I prefer to stay in as few pieces as possible. Vrolik syndrome breaks me into more than enough pieces already."

The Wanderer glared down unamused, not in the mood for blithesome banter. "Is it ready?", he pressed, irritated.

"All yours, big guy." Joker said, moving the control over to the warriors side of the console.

The Wanderer tapped the console to begin recording the transmission.

"Alert:" He relayed slowly, "All colonists living in the Bahak system: This is the SSV Normandy..."

.

With gusto, Control Rod B slid home and locked in.

"_Cooling Rod B reinserted. Reactor meltdown averted. Core temperature dropping."_

Shepard allowed herself a single hard-earned breath of relief. There were few things in the galaxy that she could complain about after leading a day through her life.

"_You've done nothing, Shepard! I can still override power to the engines! Try and stop me!_"

_Gladly._

Her sigh turned into an annoyed grunt and she burst into the reactor core, gun raised, temper on a short fuse.

"Step away from the reactor. If you test me, you _will_ fail.", Shepard commanded, her voice one of calm ultimatum.

"No! No!" Kenson screamed, frantic. "You've ruined everything!" Said the doctor, pounding on the control panel like a misbehaving child. "I can't hear the whispers anymore!"

"Good riddance. Turn around, _now_, Dr. Kenson."

"You've taken them away from me." Dr. Kenson lamented, oblivious to Shepard's words. "I will never see the Reaper's arrival!"

Like a switch had been thrown, the doctor suddenly and inexplicably calmed, turning around without incident, back straight, staring straight into Shepard's eyes like a machine. The doctor raised her right hand, revealing a detonator. She flipped open the button cap with her thumb.

"All you had to do was stay asleep, Shepard. None of this had to happen." The doctor said, with an almost apologetic tone.

Shepard's finger pressed upon the trigger of her weapon, a hairline of pressure away from putting a hole through the doctors skull. The moment was tense, and as much as she wanted to rid the asteroid of the one person who had made her life extremely difficult in the last few hours, she still saw a sliver of hope for redemption. Kenson's thoughts were not her own, after all.

"Kenson. Remember yourself. You don't have to do this!" Shepard pleaded one final time. "We can get off this asteroid!"

Shepard swore she saw a flicker of _something _behind the Doctor's eyes, but it vanished just as quick as it had come. She knew then what would inevitably transpire as soon as it disappeared.

"No." The Doctor voiced, quietly. "We cannot."

Shepard watched in slow motion as the doctors thumb pressed the detonator button. A shot would not have stopped anything.

For all their nimbleness and readiness, Shepard's legs could not remove themselves from the blast radius fast enough. The blast pressure hurled her into the wall, the back of her head hitting a solid surface. Oblivion claimed her once again.

.

"_W—-—g. C-l-n i-nt."_

"_Wa-n—g. Col-is-n i-n-nt."_

"_Warn—g. Collis-n imm-n-nt."_

Shepard returned from a dreamless dark to the sharp smell of fire, face inches away from burning chunks of debris that littered the floor she had collapsed on. As she pushed herself off the hard floor, Shepard realized with a startling horror that the burning pieces of debris were once parts of the late Dr. Amanda Kenson.

The console blared loud and the VI spoke clearly:_"__Warning. Collision imminent."_

Her thoughts were slow and deliberate, deducing that the announcement confirmed that the asteroid had not been destroyed and the Reapers had not arrived yet.

The human spectre's eyes rose and surveyed the room until it rested on the countdown timer on the wall. She sped up instantly.

Shepard rushed to the console, at once calling the Normandy. "Joker, this is Shepard. I need a pick up. Now."

"_Communication system damaged." _the VI alerted.

"Dammit!" the spectre swore.

"_Evacuation protocols in effect. All personnel report to escape shuttles." _the VI reminded her.

"Where can I find an escape shuttle?" she demanded.

"_Take the lift from this room to the external access. From there, proceed to the communications tower. The remaining escape shuttles will be located on the tower's landing pad."  
_

Shepard ran for the elevator.

.

Shepard recalled that she had never been this close to a mass relay outside of the Normandy. On the stations exterior, Shepard could see the massive relay slowly growing closer in front of her as the asteroid neared. As she rushed to find a way off the station, she watched the last evac shuttle rise and leave, barely fifty meters in front of her.

Expletives streamed out of her mouth; The comm tower was her last and only hope. She darted for the console, her fingers frantic over the console keypad.

"Shepard to Normandy. Joker, do you read me?"

Her response was a visual one rather than verbal, as out of the corner of her eye, a shimmering light appeared, took shape, and descended slowly toward the roof of the station, towering above her. Shepard recognized the form immediately, and if it had been real, would have charged the thing with a knife between her teeth and the fury of a krogan beating in her breast.

"_Shepard_." the form of Harbinger growled, "_You have become an annoyance._"

"Good," she hissed, time pressed. "Then I'm making progress."

The hologram of Harbinger flashed. "_You fight against inevitability. Dust struggling against cosmic winds. __This seems like a victory to you. A star system sacrificed. But even now,_" it promised, "_your greatest civilizations are doomed to fall. Your leaders will beg to serve._"

"You know Harbinger," she said, turning toward the holo, "Maybe you're right. Maybe we can't win this. But we'll fight you regardless, just like we did Sovereign. Just like I'm doing now." She said, walking closer. "However 'insignificant' we might be, we will fight, we will sacrifice, and we will find a way. That's what humans do." She stated, driving her point home. "And you know what?" She remarked, "I think you're a little scared. You have to be. Why else would an unstoppable god bother waste its time and energy trying to demoralize the 'harmless dust'? To get its kicks? Didn't know Reapers were such proper cunts."

Unimpressed, the Reaper known as Harbinger rose away, ending the exchange. "_Know this as you die in vain: Your time will come. Your species will fall. Prepare yourselves for the arrival._"

"Prepare for my boot up your hide, Harbinger." Shepard followed, "You think too highly of yourself; It just might be what I need to end you."

The flashy hologram vanished, and for a moment Shepard wanted to shake her fist at the old god, curse it by name and thrice damn it into the lowest bowels of hell. But as she turned to see the nearing relay, now minutes away from colliding with the asteroid and exploding with the awesome power of a star - she realized she might never get the chance, and that the last few moments of her life had literally come down to her talking smack to a machine light years away.

_Well, shit. _She thought to herself, _what a way to go._

"_Commander Shepard._" The comm relay suddenly alerted, as if it had been brought back to life. "_Normandy inbound for pick-up._"

It almost seemed to good to be true, but when she saw the sleek bird of prey swopped down to rescue her, she pressed her fingers to the side of her helmet with a smile. "Roger that."

She ran off the platform and jumped, into the waiting arms of the Normandy.

.

"Get us out of here, Joker! Double time!"

"Aye, Aye, Ma'am."

The Normandy blasted off toward the relay like lightning, charged alongside it, and fell into a mass-less corridor of space stretching from their point in space to another point in the spiral arm of the milky way. After its long, long lifetime – cycle after cycle of silent endurance – the SSV Normandy SR2 would be the last ship to ever travel through that relay.

Shepard ran through the CIC, rushing up to the galaxy map and watched for what she both hoped and feared.

A small stone blue dot blinked into existence on the map, slowly enveloping the tiny mass relay hologram, growing and spreading out from the point; like a stone thrown into a pool of water, ripples spreading outwards in all directions. It seemed so trivial and small from the hologram - like feeding virtual koi on an extranet game - but this time, the ripples moved close to the speed of light, and the waves of the pool just obliterated an entire system of over three hundred thousand people. The ripple spread over each planet, and one by one they blinked out of creation. By the time the ripple stopped, only a calm, empty pool of space remained, and a large red warning blinked in the place of the star system.

Commander Jane Shepard let out the breath she was holding, and hunched over the railing of the galaxy map, feeling defeated, even though she had won a battle against the Reapers on this day.

"Shepard."

She looked over her shoulder, one of her piercing blue eyes glancing back to regard the man who had called her.

"I was able to broadcast a high-gain transmission to the batarians after I made it back on board." The Wanderer explained, handing her a data-pad. "Anyone with a receiver in this system and the next should have received it. I've personally confirmed that at least one-hundred fifty-thousand batarians have made it out of the system alive," he continued, "and I'm still getting confirmations. Your break in at the prison made them go on high-alert even before I sent the warning; they were already readying their crafts for a possible escalation."

Shepard closed her eyes and breathed a little easier. "Good." she sighed, straightening her back and standing a little taller. "Thank you."

The Wanderer nodded slightly in acknowledgement, at the moment standing guard over her on the bridge. His eyes judged the human female, concentrating on the state on the Commander. Once seemingly satisfied, he took a step back.

"Shepard," EDI chimed in, interrupting the Commanders contemplation. "Dr. Chakwas has requested your presence in the med bay. A full health screening is requested."

"Alright, EDI. Tell Chakwas I'll be down soon."

Shepard continued to stare at the galaxy map, looking at the empty space.

"Hey," she said, turning, "We should..."

When she rotated to find the Wanderer, she found empty space instead, the man having already disappeared into the halls of the Normandy. Disappointed, she pushed herself off the railing and took the elevator down to the med bay.

.

"Hm. Looks like you're recovered." said a familiar, distinctive voice.

Shepard looked up to see the uniform of an Admiral of the Alliance fleet in the med bay with her. Shepard snapped to attention immediately.

"Admiral Hackett." she spoke, with some degree of surprise.

"Sounds like you went through hell down there. How are you feeling?" the Admiral asked, concerned.

"Fine. No more visions, If that's what you mean. I wasn't expecting to see you here, Sir."

"You went out there as a favour to me. I decided to debrief you in person." he began softly, but then straightened, hands clasped behind his back, voice stern. "That was before the mass relay exploded and destroyed an entire batarian system. What the hell happened out there, Commander?"

"Have you received any intel about what happened?" she asked.

"All I know is that I sent you out there to break Amanda Kenson out of prison, and now an entire system is destroyed. I hope you can fill in the leap of logic between those two events."

His tone was harsh but she didn't blame the Admiral for him brashness. If someone would have told her the same, she would have had a hard time believing it herself.

The Spectre retrieved the data-pad from her side and hopped off the table to stand eye to eye with the Admiral.

"I confirmed Doctor Kenson's proof." She said, handing over the pad. "The Reapers were coming, and destroying that relay was the only way to stop them. Kenson sedated me for over a day. I started the engines with a little more than a few hours left. The Wanderer managed to reach me physically on the station and he was able to return to the Normandy to broadcast a warning."

The Admiral nodded in understanding but expressed unease in his voice as he reviewed the report. "This... Wanderer... do you trust him?" he asked.

"I do, sir. I trust him with my life." Shepard replied truthfully, the question seeming altogether suspicious. "Is there something that I should know; a reason why I should not?"

"No." He answered, shaking his head. "Shepard, I trust your judgement. If you trust him, then so do I. It's just that the Alliance, or anyone else for that matter, doesn't know much about him at all. Due to the nature of his being and the dire circumstances we've been pushed into, the council races have been pushing him to voluntarily submit himself for a full evaluation. So far their requests have largely been ignored, and from what I've gathered, aside from the crew on the Normandy, you're the only person who really knows anything about him."

"You can trust him, sir." Shepard confirmed, "His knowledge and experience has proven to be invaluable both to the Normandy and the galaxy, and his _unique_ abilities have greatly assisted me on the ground. We are very lucky to have his help."

Shepard could see the sheer immensity of questions bursting from behind the Admirals eyes but Hackett professionally cut the subject and continued to the main point of the meeting.

"Good to hear. The batarians," he explained, "have reported just over two-hundred fifty thousand survivors from Aratoht. At least you were able to warn them when you could."

The Admiral, ever the understanding one, finally lowered the data-pad and turned to the wall, thinking.

"And you believe the Reaper invasion was a threat?" He asked, straightly. "We've been preparing for a possible invasion, slowly," he said, "but this, this is much sooner than any one could have imagined."

"There is no doubt about it, Sir." Shepard asserted. "We literally had minutes to spare."

"I'm sure all the details are in your report." he said, turning his attention back to the Commander again. "I won't lie to you Shepard: the batarians will want blood, and there's just enough evidence for a witch hunt. And we don't want war with the batarians... Not with the Reapers on the galaxy's edge."

Shepard didn't quite follow. "What are you saying?"

"You did what you did for the best of reasons, but... There are one-hundred thousand batarians in that system, dead."

"They died to save trillions of lives. If I could have saved then, you bet your ass I would have, Sir."

"You're preaching to the choir, Commander. If it were up to me, I'd give you a damned medal. Unfortunately," he explained, "not everyone will see it that way."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Evidence against you is shoddy, at best. But at some point, you'll have to go to Earth and face the music. I can't stop it, but I can and will make them fight for it."

"I'd gladly stand trial once this mission is done."

He nodded. "Glad to see working with Cerberus hasn't stripped away your sense of honour. Shepard, do whatever you have to do out here. But when Earth calls, you make sure you're there with your dress blues on, ready to take the hit. In the meantime.." he said, handing her the data-pad, "you keep this. I don't need to see your report to know you did the right thing."

"I... Yes, sir."

"You've done a hell of a thing, Commander."

Admiral Steven Hackett regarded her once more respectfully, and walked out of the med bay, leaving her alone.

Once the door closed behind him, EDI's form materialized.

"Shepard, the Wanderer is requesting your presence in his quarters."

.

When Shepard opened the door to the Wanderer's room, she noticed that nearly all of his belongings had been removed. In fact, it looked like no-one had ever stepped foot in the room at all. All that was left were an empty table and two chairs. The blankets on the cot had been folded impeccably, and from the gleam of the brushed metal, nearly every surface in the room had been cleaned and entirely removed of fingerprints.

"Shepard."

She spun, her face an expression of confusion and her gut churning with unease when she saw the regretful look on his own.

"What's going on?" she asked., but it was blazing clear what his intents were from the state of his quarters. "You're not leaving the Normandy, are you?"

His lack of immediate response confirmed his intentions.

"Please take a seat, Shepard. We need to talk." was all he said. And as if she hadn't already been having a shitty day, she felt a powerful punch to her stomach.

"No." She asserted, "Be up front with me, no bullshit. What's going on?"

The Wanderer sighed slightly, walking up to her until they were face to face.

"I need to leave for a little while." He said, holding up a hand to halt any outbursts. "Let me explain. You know I would not unless I had several valid reasons to do so."

She frowned, but kept her mouth shut, for the time being.

"Two-hundred twenty-thousand, one-hundred twenty five batarians made it out of the system alive. From the hundred-thousand or so that did not: some did not believe my warning, could not find the means to leave, or did not reach the relay in time. In exchange for those lives, you prevented the annihilation of a galaxy unprepared."

"Admiral Steven Hackett spoke to you." he said, plainly. "Although I do not know what was discussed, I have lived long enough to know what has and will happen. He praised your actions for doing the right thing, but because you did, you will now have to answer to your actions. Following a summons to Earth, you will be temporarily removed from duty, the Normandy will be grounded, its crew interrogated. You will be kept under guard for your protection and contact with your former crew members will be barred. This is not an assumption on my part - You also know this to be true." he said, and from the look he got from her, he was correct. "You will most likely be called within the next couple of weeks. Whether I leave today or in ten days time will not change the fact that we will be separated and barred from any communication for a temporary amount of time."

"Recent events have shown us that the clock is ticking down. There is much to prepare for the coming war and we need to utilize every second we have. I have much work to do and I plan on using my fabricated persona to accelerate our readiness. It will require constant attention on my part, at least until you are back where you belong: here on the Normandy."

Shepard's expression demonstrated that she was still unconvinced. "That's not all, is there." she pressed, recalling her conversation with Hackett.

"No." he replied, "The council..."

"...wants you to turn yourself in." she finished.

"Yes. They have repeatedly requested that I 'voluntarily' turn myself in for a full 'evaluation'. With Vasir gone and unable to report to the council, the only reason they've let me walk around uninhibited is because I'm directly working with you; one of their own. Once you are out of the picture, everything changes. When the Normandy docks into port on Earth, I will have no place to hide and no choice but to walk out the bay doors into their hands."

"Out of the question, right?"

"You know me." he said, shrugging, "What would I say?"

Shepard ran her hand over her face, sighing. _Why now, why today? _She thought.

He was being reasonable, and she hated him for it. What she wanted most was to hear him give some bullshit excuse: leaving to shack up with that bimbo from the party, leaving because he found a better starship to serve in, or even to scream in her face that he despised her for some completely, inexplicable reason. She wanted an excuse to lash out, to slam her fist into his face with a full measure of self-righteousness and somehow undo every fucked-up and soul-wrenching decision she had to make this week. But when she tried hard to look into his eyes and find a hidden reason she saw nothing but sincerity. She would miss those magnificent orbs.

"I really wish I didn't have to. But my presence here over the next day or two won't be to anyone's benefit."

_You're wrong, __it matters to me!_ she wanted to scream, but she didn't.

"When I get back," she said, after a long pause, "you better be waiting for me."

"When you get back," he replied, taking her hands in his, feeling an unnatural warmth travelling up her arms, "expect me to welcome you back aboard."

"I... I care for you, Jane." he said, with an almost flustered admission. "Perhaps more than I should allow myself to. When you get back," he suggested, "how about we try to enjoy ourselves again... hopefully with less... explosions and lives in the balance."

"Yeah," Shepard agreed, breaking into a brilliant smile, "they have a tendency to ruin the mood. But yes, I would like that."

The Wanderer gave the warmest of smiles that warmed her from the bottom of her heart. "Good." he said, nodding. "I'll be seeing you, Shepard. Until then.." he said, for the last two words switching to prothean dialect, a language only the two of them knew. "_Remember me._"


	55. Chapter 55 : Preparations

When someone looks at history from before their time, there is a compelling feeling of wonder and profoundness that takes hold; a total and complete immersion where reality fades away and the mind takes the plunge toward a world not unlike their own - only a thin veil of time separating the two. For a brief moment the mind is stuck, floating halfway between the two wrinkles, yet existing in neither, while it strains to hear the lingering echoes and see the faded silhouettes of a time gone by.

Somewhere in the known universe, in the milky way galaxy, in a star system, on a planet, in a city, on a street, standing under a small shop canopy, stood a solitary man clasping a single holoframe. The planet having seemingly rolled to a standstill, he stared, feet rooted to the spot as his mind crossed that thin veil between worlds.

Close to him, just a few meters away, stood an elcor: the owner of the small shop, its canopy, and its works. For some time, the elcor shopkeeper had been keeping watch on a potential customer who had wandered in. The human, it seemed, had taken a keen interest in one of the simple holoframes he had on display. Although at first just passing on by, the human had stopped in his way when he spotted the certain holo, and had made urgent haste to see it up close. Once in his hands, the human stared, transfixed at what he held.

The elcor needed no eyes to see that he had hooked a client. Normally deliberate and conservative, the elcor wrestled with himself internally about whether to go out and greet the guest instead of waiting at the back like he usually did. Since he was in a particularly good mood on this day, the elcor decided to engage. With slow but powerful steps, the shopkeeper trudged over to the patron, curious about the human's enraptured behaviour. His steps were lumbering and loud, but the human did not even stir when approached. Curious, the elcor tilted his head downward to see what holo the human was holding. It was an enhanced holo of Feros.

"Informative, this is Feros. Long ago, an extinct, ancient race known as the Protheans built a megalopolis that covered over two-thirds of its surface. Those are its ruins, retouched to show how they might have once looked long ago." The elcor's monotone voice snapped the customer out of his daze, and the man turned to the elcor startled, as if seeing the shopkeeper's substantial bulk for the first time.

"With some concern," the elcor asked, politely. "are you feeling well?"

"Yes, yes, yes" the man said, rubbing his forehead nervously. "I must have zoned out without realizing. This... holo... caught me off guard, it's an exceptional shot."

The human's hand outlined some of the contours of the holo and seemed to barely contain his amazement. "The restorative work on this image is incredible." He said, dazzled.

"With pride, you will not find holos like these anywhere else on Illium." the elcor boasted. Although the elcor would admit he was very proud of how well the image turned out, this particular holo was certainty not his greatest or most popular work.

"I think you're right." The human said, blown away. "It's rare to find photos from Feros. How did you get the base image? Have you been to Zhu's Hope?" he asked, inquisitive.

The elcor was impressed that the human knew anything about Feros at all. "Surprised and with excitement, I have. ExoGeni Corporation required additional logistical support for the colony and hired my colleagues and I to provide finished goods to the colonists. I lived in the colony for one standard year."

"Wow, that must have been a very profitable venture. Why did you leave?"

"Thoughtfully, the credits and the prospect of living in a small colony interested me at first, but slowly changed. There is something disquieting about the planet and its ruins, and I noticed some of the colonists behaving strangely at times. Besides," Informed the Elcor shopkeeper. "I have saved enough credits to peruse the life I have always wanted. With zeal, as an artist."

A glint of sharp curiosity was seen from the side of the human's eye, the man clearly not wanting to be rude but immediately intrigued by the elcor's preoccupation, pressed further. "Strange behaviour? I hate to interrupt you, but what did you mean by that?"

The elcor shifted slightly, the small gesture of his speaking volumes. "With hesitancy, do not mention this to anyone. Hushed, I have observed on multiple occasions some of the original asari and human colonists coordinate their efforts and cooperate on a task without speaking or communicating explicitly with one another. Knowing that humans and asari do not posses the same breadth of scent and sub-vocalized communication as my own species, I cannot explain it."

The man smiled ever so slightly, and if the elcor knew the man better, he might have picked up the flash of knowledge and understanding behind the man's eyes.

"Who knows?" The man said, shrugging. "People are always full of secrets, wouldn't you agree?" He hinted, rotating his head while looking at some of the other artwork displayed. "What made you peruse this line of work? I don't believe I've met a elcor holo-artist before."

"With passion," the elcor exalted, yet his voice never rose in pitch. "artists like Forta have inspired me from a young age. Some of Forta's work is reputed to make viewers go mad if stared at for too long. Timidly, though probably untrue, it is my dream to make viewers stop and stare long enough to forget where they are."

"Ha! You have most certainly succeeded." the man laughed, holding up the frame. "Are you responsible for this work?"

"With pride, I am."

"You've done a fantastic job... better that you'll ever know, actually." he added with hidden meaning. "How much do I owe you for this one?"

"Appreciative, thank you. Humbly, that holo is one-hundred credits."

"Here's two-hundred." The man insisted, swiping his credit chit on the counter and depositing credits into the elcor's account. "Hundred for the holo, the other hundred for doing such an amazing job. Worth every credit."

Dumbfounded, the elcor stood speechless.

"Do you accept commissions?" the man asked, with great interest. "I would love to have other prothean ruin holos restored, if possible."

"With glee, absolutely. You can contact me from my extranet site."

"Will do." The man said, placing the holo in his bag. "You know, we've been talking and I don't even know your name."

"Affably, Xalt."

"Pleasure to meet you, Xalt. Call me Solomon." the man said. "Thank you for your time. We'll be in touch."

"Courteously, have a nice day."

As the elcor watched the human walk away, he reflected that his decision had been a very good one indeed.

.

The man slowly shuffled down the immaculate streets and past the bright neon shops of Nos Astra, enjoying a much deserved break. He had been working tirelessly for the past while, and had hardly left his temporary apartment to stretch his legs. Progress was being made, but time was of the essence from here on in.

_Things here had not changed much_, he thought to himself, as he watched the hustle and bustle of the markets. Although most here continued to live life like they always had even with knowledge of the coming invasion, only a few would acknowledge what changes would transpire - The healthy organic mind doesn't wake up in the morning thinking it will be its last day alive. Still, it was no secret that Illium's leaders were paranoid about keeping their fortunes, and they were flexing their considerable influence in both Terminus and Citadel space to acquired a large defence fleet and a high number of fission weapons for the coming war.

The vanity of the planet had no equal in the galaxy, but it presented him with the _perfect_ environment to kick start his plans and preparations for the war. It was the asari equivalent of Noveria, and as such, nearly anything could be done here. He also really, _really_, hated the cold.

Content with a relaxing afternoon well spent, the man decided to return to his work and disappear again. He fearlessly took a rapid transit cab to the closest transport terminal and walked through the denser areas of the city. Before long, he reached a tall residential building and took an elevator up to one of the floors near the top. Upon finally reaching his flat, he pressed a single button: all at once, reading his fingerprint, iris, and DNA. Verification complete, the military spec door then opened and he stepped through, door sealing behind him.

The dimly-lit space inside was sparsely decorated, but functional. Warm neutral colours on most surfaces. Modern looking and clean, he was a man of simple taste. One floor, one bedroom, one bathroom, kitchen, and long window that stretched from one end of the apartment to the other, facing outwards over the city. Kinetic barriers were installed, of course. The apartment was meant to be a temporary place to stay so he didn't bother populating it with anything especially 'homey' or personal.

_Well, except for one thing_, he thought, as he pulled out the holoframe he had purchased from the elcor down in the markets.

The man looked down toward the holo once more, regarding its incredible clarity and accuracy. The impeccably tall, complete, slender spires of the ghost city rose vertically from the endless flat plain of cloud, scraping the sky like the fingers of a titan rising from the murky depths of the planet. The ancient pillars of metal stood serene against a sky of flashing blue and white, an appropriate flare from the distant star, blinding. Xalt the elcor had taken time to include the minute details of the city and had done a truly incredible job - He seriously doubted the artist had any realization of how authentic his interpretation of the city really was.

The man sedately waked over to a bare wall prepared for its presence and placed the holo squarely in the center of it, roughly at eye level. Stepping back to heed the placement, he reflected that there was something incredibly unsettling about looking down onto the ruins of a planet, knowing that at one time, you were part of it. In the world of his mind, Feros stood complete and untouched by the ravages of time and war. He reached out towards its memory, fingers passing through the frame. He sighed with wistfulness.

_Looking out through a window, watching the world go by._

After hanging his black jacket, the man turned to regard the boundless window and the world that lay beyond, standing with his hands on his hips as he looked out from the loft watching the soft glow of the city increase as the sun set in in the distance.

_Back to work._

Placed against the window, its back to the world, stood a simple desk and chair. On the desk lay a pair of force feedback gloves and a plain clock. He turned off the clock's display; not wanting to watch the time go by, knowing he would be able to fool his body and mind for staying busy for that much longer.

After securing the gloves to his hands, he pressed made a motion with his hands to bring the VI interface online. The entire window that stretched in front of him polarized and became opaque, becoming entirely black. Holo projectors at the foot of the window activated, throwing their information up on the window-turned-screen. Within seconds, it was packed with information. The man walked all the way to the left side of the window and slowly walked past the segmented facets of his growing empire.

The popular saying that 'the rich get richer' was unfortunately very true. The more money you have, the easier you can make more of it. Combine large amounts of liquid capital with the knowledge and experience of someone who has watched every major organic financial market over a time period spanning several cycles and you have nearly limitless wealth. There are clear patterns that you see over the long, _long_ term, and fortunately for him, he was the only one who saw that far. Further combine that limitless wealth with accurate information, from say... the largest information broker in the galaxy, and you become one of the most powerful people in the galaxy. When you have enough money to sink your fingers into everyone's pockets, you control what happens and when. One could go mad with this power, and he felt the grip of greed tug heavily on him every time he saw the numbers. But the outcome of his game was ultimately not a personal one, and he needed to extend his guiding influence to shape and guide the galaxy's economy and market for the coming war. Much like the Shadow Broker had done, investing in ventures that would further his goals, he played, but on a much larger scale... and with much larger stakes. He had spent many years amassing a fortune and now was the time to put into action. His entire framework of integrated cash and investments would move the correct cogs in the giant machine that was the galaxy, in turn generating every more money that he poured right back in to accelerate its movement. It was a dangerous runaway reaction surely, but anything less than full speed against the Reapers would end in a fantastic crash and burn when they hit their wall. He intended to punch right through, even if they died behind the wheel.

The galactic economy was booming like never before, and he took full advantage of its powerful beat. For blurred hours after the sun set, the man stood, ate and drank, paced and sat, eyes darting to and fro, reading and deciphering the market, playing his chest pieces. There was more to a war of this scale than just bodies and ammo, and neither existed in any practical amount to win this war. He sat on one side of a board of chess, facing an opponent that had never lost. But he had watched the opponent play two times, despite their victory both rounds. He was prepared this time, sitting down with enough good pieces to play, moving the game into the most favourable position before the other player entered the game.

He started at the bottom. He invested in and bought temporary mining rights to eezo, light, heavy and rare earth metal mines all over the galaxy and in several asteroids he remembered having still ample pockets of ore left over from the Prothean times. _Tiranta, Uqula, Quant, Prega._ One asteroid, _Mahavid_, had been on his list but had unfortunately the rights to mine had been sold to _T-GES Mineral Works. _

_Oh well, can't win them all._

These mines would 'explode' once breached, chock full with figurative money in veins of rock. To meet the increase of raw materiel, he invested in a few select refineries placed at key junctions between the sources and large scale manufacturing plants. These would be heading into maximum production soon, and shipyards would be needing the extra resources. With the treaty of Farixen lifted, every shipyard was scrambling to acquire enough resources to build and fuel the largest and most devastating dreadnoughts the galaxy had ever seen.

One problem: he still knew not of where the main Alliance shipyard was held. It was hidden from the public for security reasons and they were doing a superb job in keeping it under the radar.

He opened a channel to the Shadow Broker, requesting the information. Due to the nature of both their present occupations and their history, information was passed between them daily in both directions, and with the highest possible priority. Within the minute the sensitive information was received and he invested in the closest refinery to its location. Sifting through data and contacts, he discovered that the owner of the local systems manufacturing business, a small human company, _Refix_, had plans to expand their business into the area and build another manufacturing centre. He got in touch with the company and pledged an irrefutable offer of investment should they choose to expand. He would hear back from them within the next two days with a decision. He knew they would accept.

He poured money into the right farming colonies with the highest potential for growth with the intent to step up food production. He persuaded a couple of reliable food distributors and transport companies to move into the growing colonies and move the valuable cargo to every corner of the galaxy. _ExSolar Shipping_ and _Ryuusei_ were interested in what he had to say. His reputation preceded him. Although the man had been relative newcomer to the galactic economic scene, numerous agencies had been tracking his work and knew that everything he touched turned to gold. Money talks, and his word was worth its weight in precious metals. Within the next couple of days a couple of contracts would be hammered out, all because he had made a 'recommendation'.

The elcor economy was not much larger than the Alliance's but it was much more developed. Since the elcor already had all the goods they needed, he arranged for surplus supplies to be moved to where it was needed most. Cheaper and more effective then hiring _Butler Supplies_ in the long run, several elcor businesses that dealt in lower-priced bulk supplies would be receiving a flood of orders soon. The war would need all the logistical support it could get.

Salarian tech was the most promising and battle interfaces of all sorts were starting up. He briefed a few and gave his money to the ones with the shared species interface. It was clean looking and the owners had a clear vision of what they wanted accomplished. Ultraviolet antiship lasers were also gaining in popularity but were nearly monopolized so he supplemented two budding rival companies with generous startup grants. Prices would drop and soon most ships in the salarian military would have the newer technology.

The enhanced Thanix schematics he had released to the public had been worked on by numerous corporations and he was delighted by their progress. Models had been built, tested, and installed in record time. The batarian's, much to his surprise, had already built smaller-scale cannons that were being mounted onto larger land vehicles. Intrigued, he left a note for himself to discover more at a later time. They could prove effective against smaller, destroyer-class reapers.

Two asari companies who designed and implemented redundant communications and quantum networks received a healthy influx of credits, saving one from bankruptcy. He made a few calls, hiring a few small bands of reliable mercenaries to disrupt and damage some of the older and vulnerable communication systems that some systems and planets relied on. Having large amounts of shares in both asari communications companies, he advised to increase the quarterly budget for marketing and hire more engineers. They would be in a booming business soon, and so would quantum networks. Acquaintances with the CEO of _Skywire_, another major communications corporation, he advised that she put forth a notion to buy _Quick Space_, a smaller but up-and-coming research and development group. From data he had gathered from the Shadow Broker, he discovered they had found a way to significantly lower the price of building quantum entanglement communication equipment. It would make shareholders salivate.

Politicians were next. He already had his eyes on the ones that were real and who wanted to make big but necessary changes, stressing the importance of inter and extra-species cooperation going forward. He supported their campaigns financially, bringing their messages to the forefront.

Media. The galaxy needed to know what was happening. He sponsored some of the newer stations that had the guts to report what others did not.

Pharmaceuticals. Improvements in medi-gel were constant but the wonders of modern medicine did not effect all species with the same potency. He invested into some R&D. The asari had the most promising outlook for breakthroughs: _Sirta Foundation. Sonax Industries. _They had a good track record and steady updates to their shareholders.

He made a generous donation to the _Huerta Memorial Hospital_ on the Citadel and to other centers of healing, hoping the funds would be put to good use. Charities of all kinds were gifted generously, those whom he hoped would provide comfort for those who would be down and without help.

Turian, human, asari, and salarian military suppliers and munition companies were also in full swing and he lobbied for anti-armor, sledgehammer and phasic rounds to be supplied as standard packs for ground troops in every military faction he could influence. They would be the most effective against the enemy. Although _Aldrin Labs_ provided popular basic equipment for most races, he preferred the supplies manufactured by _Devlon Industries_. They offered the best basic armor models and he gifted samples of their work to those who would take them. The only way to prove combat equipment was to baptize them in fire, and no solider would refuse good, solid equipment.

The man rubbed his tired, aching eyes and walked farther down the line. _Enough galaxy molding for the day, now onto more closer ventures._

_Cryptox Industries_ had made the transition from gross fabrication to legitimate company, catering to the needs of the galaxies premier soldiers and individuals of singular substance. He employed three teams of the best researchers and weapons technicians in the galaxy, hand picked from their previous roles in larger organizations by promise of never-before-seen technology and incredible pay. He met them all on a one-on-one basis and ensured they had everything they needed. He directly oversaw their work, but they could work when he was not, with the added benefit to able to work on several components at the same time. Currently, they were doing final temperature tests on the materials to be used in his next weapon: the 'Dragon', and mechanical stress testing on the fastest firing mechanism ever designed for a small arms weapon. He hoped the next prototype of his pistols would not render themselves useless then next time he found himself in a firefight fifty-thousand feet above the surface of a planet.

In the time of his short stay on Illium he had already been contacted by, and had meetings arranged for, a turian Spectre by the name of Aracus and an STG operative who only used a code-name. Both were known for demanding the best possible equipment for their work and both had marvellous achievements in their career. When the man had asked the turian how he had discovered his company, the Spectre mentioned that he had met another one of his kind on a mission recently: a turian with blue facial paint. Although not easily impressed, the other turians' tactical skill and efficacy in combat were extraordinary considering his rank. He had questioned him, Aracus said, discovering that the turian had served with a fellow Spectre for several years, though politely but firmly refusing to go into details about with whom or what they had accomplished during their time together. The blue faced turian, Aracus explained to him, carried a uniquely beautiful blue rifle, never before seeing anything as striking or powerful even though the Spectre himself owned an array of Spectre Master Gear. When he asked for contact information on its creator, the blue turian gave him a single string of numbers with no name, saying that if he was lucky enough, he would get a reply. The mention of the blue faced turian had made the man smile, and he agreed to a meeting with the Spectre on Illium in a weeks time.

Happy with the current reported results from his teams, he closed the progress reports and shifted his attention to a bookmarked file – one that he was almost giddy about.

Opening it, he spread his hands to disperse the data around the screen. The contents of the file, catching his eye while raking the extranet a couple of weeks ago, outlined a failed start-up that had designed a truly brilliant product - an omni-blade. Although melee-combat applications for the omni-tool are almost as old as the device itself, the feature was largely unused due to the current practices of warfare. This would be changing, and he knew that for a modern solider to take on multiple husks in close quarters, they needed a different tool at their disposal.

At its more basic design, it was comprised of a disposable silicon-carbide edge flash-forged by the tool's mini-fabricator. The transparent, nearly diamond-hard blade is created and suspended in a mass effect field to safeguard the user's skin, warning lights illuminating the field so the searing-hot blade only burns what it is intended to: the opponent. The best part, the man excitedly imagined, was that a technically skilled soldier could modify their omni-tools to maximize stopping power through any design they saw fit. Electrical, kinetic, or thermal energy, the possibilities were truly endless. Back to basics in a way, but nothing was more effective.

He contacted his legal team and _demanded_ that they acquire the intellectual property or entire start-up as soon as possible. He outlined a generous offer and contact was made. Two hours later and they settled on a price of one-million credits, a paltry sum for such potential. He sent the design to one of his teams for finalization of its design and testing. Once they gave him the affirmative, he would release the module free to the public, completely open-source and free to modify. It could just prove to be one of the most essential weapons of the war, if accepted by the masses, that is.

The man closed the folder and swept his hands to the side, tossing the virtual folder and its contents back to the storage media it had been retrieved from. He collapsed into the chair in front of the desk, mentally taxed from the time working. He didn't know how much time had passed, and he didn't dare find out until he was completely drained. He could sometimes work for days like this.

Closing his tired eyes to rest for awhile, a news channel that resided in the far corner of the display enlarged itself to full screen and began playing at a full volume on its own accord; key words in the broadcast triggering a search and display algorithm he had set up for specific persons or events.

___Tonight, on ____Constant Times____, we ____revisit____ the ____sensational____ arrest of Commander Shepard! ____Constant Times__, ____the galaxies premier twenty-hour show for keeping up with the times!_

___Your host, ____Hannah ____Evans____!_

___Political correspondent, Heyla Prassus!_

___Senior____Analyst, Amar____o ____Exet____!_

___And our special guest, Dr Cyrus Pax!_

The man's head zoomed upward, the broadcast jolting him awake and demanding his complete attention.

The human woman on the screen smiled with impeccably straight, white teeth, as she always did even when discussing the grimmest or morbid of news. Chestnut brown hair perfectly curled just below the chin and with a voice that is both smart and sensuous, she is familiar to billions across the settled galaxy. With Ms. Evan's introduction to the station five years ago, ___Constant Times____'_ ratings skyrocketed, and with a news story this juicy it would climb even higher still. The arrest of Commander Shepard had been breaking news across the entire galaxy, captured by every possible news station that existed.

_"Good evening and welcome to the evening news. _

_First – the facts. Jane Shepard, perhaps the most controversial and well-known human in the galaxy today, has been arrested and taken into custody by Admiral Steven Hackett of the Fifth Fleet. Shepard, a former Alliance marine and the first human to be inducted into the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch by the Citadel Council, has been accused as the person responsible for the horrific tragedy that occurred on the planet Aratoht, in the Bahak System."_

A crappy file picture of Shepard came up on screen, taken from her Alliance service records years ago. Beside it was a informative galactic chart informing viewers exactly where the Bahak System is. Or was.

_"According to a formal accusation and official confirmation lodged by the batarian Hegemony, the mass relay in the Bahak System has been destroyed. There were over three hundred thousand colonists in that system, with over one hundred thousand colonists loosing their lives in the wake of the exploding mass relay."_

The host paused for a moment, looking suitably sombre in deference to such a great tragedy. Inside, she must have been practically buzzing. Such a story could stay on air for months. The higher the death toll, the better the ratings.

_"__Jane__ Shepard __has been confirmed__ to be the person responsible behind this heinous crime. A representative of the Fifth Fleet refused to give comment when contacted by __CT__, but Prime Minister Imran __Thakrar __of the __IIU __has released a statement."_

A video of the Alliance's Prime Minister appeared on screen. An older, balding man with impressive facial hair, PM Thakrar spoke with authority from what appeared to be a taping from a press conference a week old. It was a repeat clip, but his words would bolster the story's frenzy.

_"Jane Shepard has been accused of a crime and investigations are ongoing. May I take this opportunity to remind everyone in Citadel Space that she is presumed innocent at this point in time. If found guilty, she will be punished to the fullest extent of the law. A trial date will be announced shortly."_

The video cut out, returning back to _Evans_ at her desk._ "Over to you, Dr ____Pax__. What are your initial thoughts on this surprising incident, __given that Shepard had been __accused as a__ direct perpetrator in this __event?__"_

A tall turian male, looking somewhat older and more dignified than most, addressed Ms. Evans.

_"Well as you know, there's a reason Shepard is the most controversial human around. It has been claimed by several __reliable__ sources that the former marine signed up with Cerberus, the __human __terrorist __organization__, shortly after __s__he was believed to have died during a small-scale Alliance expedition against the geth."_ he said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

Evans frowned, reflecting the confusion that audience polling indicated 87% of the viewers were likely to have. _"But official Alliance records ha__d __her__ listed as killed in action. Are you sure __s__he isn't dead? __Was her death just a fabrication to disappear without repercussions?__"_

_"Positive. For example, Shepard was spotted with some regularity on Omega. Although Omega isn't exactly...reliable, she was also seen on Tuchanka and the Citadel."_

_"And Cerberus." _said Gwen, making a passable attempt to sound neutral. _"How can it be that Shepard would even consider joining forces with such a brutal and underhanded bunch of thugs? As the hero of the Battle of __the Citadel__, __she gave orders to save the Destiny Ascension and the council. __Whom, might I reminded you, had no human Councillors at the time.__"_

The elcor analyst, _Amar__o __Exet_, rumbled to life.

_"Speculation: Despite Shepard's military track record, __s__he remains a human. It is possible that __s__he believes in human supremacy and believes that working with Cerberus will achieve __her__ aims. __D__isparaging__: It is no secret that humans and batarians do not get along. There are __rumours__ the Commander's parents were murdered by batarian slavers when she was __a child__.__"_

_"I can't agree with that,"_ argued Dr. _Pax_. _"Are you forgetting that the Alliance Navy __released declassified documents relating to Shepard's hunt for Cerberus bases of operation? She ha__s__ caused them quite a headache."_

_"Rejection: People are easily swayed. If Cerberus promised the Commander resources to assist in her crusade against the 'Reapers', she would join them. It is no secret her relationship with the council is strained."_

_"Cerberus is of course an extremist __organization__ condemned by the Humanity Systems Alliance,"_ clarified _Evans_, as instructed by her PR team. _"All of us here at __CT__ will never condone the actions of any group which uses violence to further their goals." _

The man watching the broadcast assumed she must had also been instructed to shoot down any mention of the word 'Reaper'.

_"I feel that if Shepard really is working with Cerberus, __s__he must have a good reason. Perhaps more light will be shed one day,"_ said Pax.

_"Dismissive: As far as I am concerned, working with Cerberus is unforgivable," _admitted _Exet_. _"True galactic cooperation will never be achieved when groups like Cerberus kill innocents."_

_Evans_ cut in. _"I'm sorry to interrupt gentlemen but I believe our viewers would like to know more of the political angle in this shocking story. Ms.____ Prassus__, could you please give us your take on how this might affect human-batarian relations?"_

The asari correspondent, resplendent in a bright orange gown, nodded demurely.

_"Although I remain hopeful of a peaceful solution, the Bahak System tragedy threatens to tip the already delicate political situation between the Alliance and the Hegemony into outright war. The Hegemony and the Alliance have never really been on the best of terms, culminating in the somewhat extreme decision by the batarians to sever all political and economic links with the Citadel several years ago. Khar'shan declared that the Citadel's decision not to declare the Skyllian Verge a batarian exclusive zone was an 'intolerable slight',"_ said _Heyla_.

_"Tensions are fast rising between the Hegemony and the Alliance,"_ the correspondent continued. "_As I understand it, Khar'shan demands that Shepard be handed over to the batarians. Unfortunately, and rather ironically, due to having cut their ties with the Citadel, the Alliance has no formal extradition treaty with the Hegemony and is under no obligation to release Shepard to them."_

The turian doctor, clearly agitated and obviously a pro-Shepard fan, interposed.

"_Now hold on, I think we're not looking at the whole picture. Yes, it is true that Shepard is being held responsible for the deaths of many innocent batarians, but the Hegemony did formally declare that the Commander had sent a warning broadcast to the entire Bahak System hours before the relay was destroyed. If she didn't, all batarian colonists would have undoubtedly perished. If batarian slaughter was her intent, she would not have warned them beforehand."_

_Good on you, Dr. Pax, _the man watching the broadcast, thought.

_"Interjection: __This information only points a stronger picture of Cerberus involvement.__"_

_"What do you think of this trial? Will Shepard be tried as a civilian or a member of the military? Will it be public, or closed?"_ asked Evans, once again cutting the turian off from the discussion.

_"At this point in time it's difficult to say,"_ replied _Heyla_. _"All we can safely surmise at this moment is that the Alliance will be treating this case very seriously indeed."_

_"We've noticed th__at most fleets__ assigned to guard colony worlds have been placed on high alert..."_ mentioned _Cyrus_.

_"...At the same time," _the asari finished,_ "the Alliance's State Department has been abuzz with activity. If I may say so, typical of Alliance politics,"_ said _Heyla_ smoothly._ "Rely on diplomacy while at the same time preparing for war."_

_"But will it come to war?"_ asked Evans, again.

_"I think everything depends on what happens during the trial,"_ said the asari.

_"With emphasis: Shepard should not be allowed to escape h__er__ crimes. A verdict of 'innocent' on a technicality will be most unjust," _said _Exet_.

_"Thank you everyone, now let's take some vidcalls from members of our audience. First we have Eluam_ _on the line__, he's got something to say about the issue."_

Eluam was a batarian name, and everyone at the station was waiting for an explosion of untranslated batarian swear words and a damnation upon the Commanders head.

"_So, Eluam, what are your thoughts on this event?" _Evans, asked, ready for the storm.

"_Something's not right."_ Grumbled the batarian on the other end of the line. _"I don't think Shepard would ever willing do something as evil as destroy an entire system of my people. I'll admit that __I've never been a human sympathizer, or even friendly with her kind, __but it seems absurd the human would stoop that low."_

Evans, clearly confused on the batarians' stance, wore a look of mild surprise._"And why would you say that? Human-Batarians relations have always been rocky."_

"_A few months ago, __on Omega,"_the batarian voice stated,_ "there was a lab-engineered virus outbreak that hit __the slums. Airborne transmission across numerous species and a near-perfect mortality rate. Only __humans and the wretched vorcha were unaffected, and mercenary group__s__ were going from sector to sector, looting possessions and leaving the infected to succumb to death. __I had gotten infected, __was __delirious, and near death, when the human Commander stopped to save me."_

The older turian perked up. _"__Eluam__, __are you saying that __you directly met Commander Shepard on Omega?"_

"_That is correct. __I __a__lmost shot her too, __thinking the human female was there to spit in my face and take what few __belongings__ I still had. Instead of passing and leaving me to my fate, she helped me and later sent back a cure __for the virus when it was found. She gave me a flicker of hope to brighten the darkness that I perceived as my final hours, and t__he fact that the Commander stopped to help someone who could do her no benefit __showed me what kind of character she possessed. I may never fully trust humans, but I __would be wrong to dismiss them entirely."_

The batarians' words stunned the cast of the station, not expecting the eloquent words and support... and he wasn't finished talking.

"_If I had to put my money on the cause of the tragedy, I would put it on the Reapers. There is a reason everyone is running around crazy and stocking their fleets with..."_

_Hannah _Evans severed the call hurriedly. _"Thank you Eluam for speaking with us today..." _She blabbed, nervous laughter rising to the surface._ "Next we have -"_

The man sitting in the chair on Illium waved away the news broadcast with a flick of his fingers and sat in the silent room, thinking.

The galaxy needed a driven leader of action they could relate to, and that person was Commander Jane Shepard - currently held under arrest in an Alliance military base in Vancouver on planet Earth. No Cerberus or former Cerberus employees were found on board when her ship, Normandy, had docked onto Earth. Their absence on board her ship would assist her case.

The potentially incriminating crew members had been whisked off the ship just a few days earlier along with Commander Shepard's newest and most enigmatic crew member.

The man rose from his seat, walked over to an inconspicuous portion of the wall and tapped out a combination of tiles, at the finish of the combination causing the wall safe to open and reveal its contents. Revealed to the man was a set of jet black armor, the empty ocular design of the helmet staring right back at him. Beside the armor, set in its own case, was a sword. Large, dark, and ornate, it exuded mysterious ancient eons.

The man stared, trying to decipher its secrets, but got no farther than what he could see with the naked eye. He rested his hand on its cold surface and without fail, a green pulse traveled up its intricate capillary detail. The man lifted the weapon from its place and swung it in the air like he had done so many times before, the air in the wake of its path, part. It felt sure and true, and it drew him back to where he belonged. When he closed his eyes, and _really_ listened, he could hear its call.

He had considered to give the blade to one of his research teams in the hopes of shedding light on its composition, but always decided to refrain. A very long time ago, when the sword was just as mysterious as it was today, and he was still moving up the ranks, someone decided to run a series of tests on the newly discovered ancient artifact. In one such test, they funneled radiant energy into the artifact to see what would result. It was reported that there was an enormous discharge of some sort, and at least a dozen scientist's were killed in the experiment. From those that survived, they wrote that the artifact had converted the voltage into something else... a wave of concussive force of some kind. The remaining scientists refused to repeat the experiment and when whomever hired them tried to persuade them otherwise, it got nasty and they were shut down. Not one scientist made it out of the testing facility alive. A few of the remaining scientists went inexplicably mad and committed suicide, and the rest were killed. The artifact had disappeared after that, and wasn't seen for many years.

He dared not repeat history.

The man placed the weapon back in its place, shut the safe, and sat back down in his chair. He thought of the past: the races and worlds come and gone, the present: doing his part to move the pieces of the galaxy in order, and the future: Jane Shepard. She would need all the help she could get, and he had things no one else could supply.

The man searched for an old folder of his, filled with something other than weapons or businesses. It was a hastily written down formula for a serum that once existed during his time, and he knew just the person to recreate it.

He scrolled down his list of contacts and stopped when he highlighted the person who he was looking for. The person in question was a salarian - former STG operative, geneticist, and medical genius by the name of Mordin Solus. He relayed the call through a secure line and waited.

While it rang, the man pressed a button on the table, shutting down the screen, depolarizing the window, and displaying the time and date on the blank clock on the desk. The dark of the apartment gave way to the light of sunrise, and a quick glance at the clock made the man realize in shock just how days he had spent in that room.

He heard the other end of the line pick up.

* * *

Special thanks and credit to fanfiction author Finn Solomon for material and inspiration for the news channel scene.


End file.
